


Coming Home

by BlacklistMaestro



Category: The Blacklist (TV)
Genre: Anger, Angst, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, F/M, Love, Romance
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-01-17
Updated: 2017-09-16
Packaged: 2018-09-18 01:59:41
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 30
Words: 38,725
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9360539
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/BlacklistMaestro/pseuds/BlacklistMaestro
Summary: After faking her death, Liz wakes to find that Tom is nowhere to be found and Red has taken Agnes.  This fic takes place six years in the future.  It comes after Cape May and assumes that nothing that happened after that episode ever took place.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> This is my first Blacklist fanfic. Be gentle! ;-)

Elizabeth Keen walked up to yet another house.  This time the home of William and Katherine Markum.  If she was lucky, she would knock on the door; see that William was not, in fact, Raymond Reddington; apologize for having the wrong house and board her flight to Seattle to repeat the ritual.  If she was unlucky, they would not be home and she would change her flight, camp out in the nearest cheap hotel, and try again the next day. 

 

She raised her fist and gave a firm knock on the door. 

 

Silence. 

 

No footsteps.  No voices.

 

Unlucky.

 

“Are you looking for Will?” said the voice.  A nosy neighbor.  She had encountered those before, too.  They were rarely very helpful but perhaps she could avoid the complication of changing flights and the seedy hotel.

 

“Yes.  Do you know when he will be back?”  she replied.  Her honed “I’m not threatening.  Just here to see an old friend” act fully on display.

 

“He left a few minutes ago with Aggie for the Bridge Festival.” 

 

Liz’s heart leapt into her throat.

 

“Aggie?” 

 

“Yeah…his daughter.”

 

_My god. Could this finally be them?_

 

“I thought his daughter’s name was Katherine?”

 

The neighbor laughed.   “Well, yes.  I guess, technically, it is.  Will said when she was born there was a bit of a disagreement about what to name her.  He wanted Agnes and his wife wanted Katherine.  He lost.  But, since his wife’s not here, he says he gets to call her whatever he wants.”

 

Liz’s breathing shallowed. She never liked nosy neighbors…until now.

 

“His wife?”

 

“Apparently, she died shortly after Katherine was born.  Complications from childbirth.  So sad.  He said they always wanted a child.  Waited a long time for her,” the neighbor shook his head in sympathy.

 

The perfect cover.  A wife who has died in childbirth.  A child who name was Agnes but “officially” Katherine.   Of course, he had thought of everything. 

 

“I’ve never seen more devoted father,” the man confessed.

 

“Do you know where I can find them?” she interrupted, trying not to sound anxious.

 

“Sure.  The party is just a couple blocks over at Wilson Park.   Fun day – music, dancing, games for the kids.  You’ll probably find him in the beer tent…” the neighbor continued to ramble as Liz started to walk away.

 

_Beer tent?  Red drinking beer?  Really?_

 

“Thanks,” Liz replied, already on her way to the car.

 

Had she found them?   Had she FINALLY found them!?!?!


	2. Chapter 2

Liz followed the GPS directions to Wilson Park. It was crowded. Countless children running about chased by their weary parents. Women chatting in groups. Young couples, hand in hand. Bounce houses and rock climbing walls. A DJ who had turned the parking lot into a make-shift dance floor full of a mixture of groups of teenage girls, boy/girl pairings sure to make their parents uneasy, and the old married couple who had been together for five decades. Funnel cake. A carnival in the distance.

Liz was anxious. How would she ever find them in this crowd? There was a feeling at the pit of her stomach that they were here. She wouldn’t likely recognize Agnes; or maybe she would. But she would recognize Raymond Reddington. She scanned the crowd, the profiler kicking in. He wouldn’t be at the carnival, too noisy. He wouldn’t be in the beer tent because…well…beer. He could be holding court with the group of women, that sounded like him. A careful review of the group indicated she was wrong.

Damn! But then again, he would likely be with Agnes. The children were all together with no overbearing adult presence at the neighborhood party, which she would have predicted if she hadn’t been districted by the idea of being so close.

The longer she looked, the more agitated she became. Maybe she was wrong and William Markum and his daughter Katherine, nicknamed “Aggie” whose mother had died in childbirth, were, in fact, just that. Ordinary people, living ordinary lives. She surveyed the crowd again - not with the women; not with the children at the bounce house; she dismissed the group in the beer tent but then…

_Its him!_

She caught her breath as one of the men in the tent turned ever so slightly revealing an unmistakable profile. Unmistakable but…different. His casual yet commanding stance and gait 100% the same. His warm laugh and inflection instantly recognizable. But that was it. His usual three-piece suit had been replaced by casual jeans, black loafers, and a crisp white button up shirt left untucked. The fedora usurped by a Seattle Marianers baseball cap which he adjusted regularly as if uncomfortable with it, taking it on and off while revealing much more and much darker hair than she remembered. Absent were the wisps of gray that so attracted her. His eyes were hidden by wire-rimmed glasses. The sweating bottle of Coors light contained in his right hand completed the odd picture.

She considered the man before her. Gone was the Concierge of Crime who ruled with an unforgiving iron fist. Had she walked by him on the street, she would not have recognized him. His transformation was truly complete.

Wait…had this man ironed his jeans? That sounded right! Having been forced into jeans, Raymond Reddington would have had them ironed!

Liz chuckled to herself. He was still…him.

She watched him engage with the group of men, most younger than him. Although given his dyed hair, she imagined they thought him to be younger than his years. He told absurd stories that the men assumed to be tall tails, not knowing that the storyteller in their midst likely lived each one. He loved the attention. He laughed and raised his beer to signal a toast.

He seemed…normal. William Markum had friends and a house in the suburbs, loved the Seattle Mariners, and drank Coors light.

Her heart sank. She had sealed her fate long ago with one wrong decision. You know the one - the decision, despite the child’s true paternity, to name Tom as the father because he was, in her mind, infinitely more capable of “normal” than Raymond Reddington ever could be. Red had told her over and over that she could have the normal life she wanted. She refused to believe him. All of the pain of the recent years caused by that one fateful decision.

Liz was pulled from her melancholy as a six-year-old child with long, dark, wavy hair in a red dress bounded up to William Markum.

“Daddy…it’s the dancing song…” the child squealed with delight as she took his hand, dragging him towards the parking lot’s makeshift dance floor.

_Daddy._

Liz was mesmerized by the first site of her now six-year-old daughter.

The young lady’s father smiled widely, set down his drink, and immediately turned to follow.

“Sorry gentleman. I once learned the hard way never to turn down an invitation from a beautiful woman,” Red winked.

Agnes dragged him to the dance floor and into the middle of a gaggle of six-year-old girls as the chorus of “dancing song” began. Red hoisted his daughter into his arms. The unusual pair dancing and singing the chorus together. This was clearly a regular ritual.

The little girl wiggled, wanting to be put down. He hated that part. His memory flashed to the countless times he danced with her, sang to her, when she was an infant and as she grew. She was getting bigger; wanted more independence. The thought made his heart hurt a little.

“Twirl me, Daddy!”

Red twirled his daughter with a genuine smile and belly laugh; a true happiness that Liz had never witnessed.

The chorus grew louder as Agnes’ friends chimed in.

“Me too, Mr. Markum.” “Will…Will…me next.”

They each got a turn, all the while Red held tightly to Agnes’ hand. He lifted her back to his arms, dancing and singing along to the final chorus.

The song ended only to be followed with more requests from Agnes and her friends to dance.

“Ladies, ladies,” exclaimed the dapper knight dressed in jeans and a baseball cap. “I must take my leave but thank you for a lovely afternoon. It has been far too long since I shared a such quality time with six lovely women.” They giggled as he tipped his baseball cap, bowed low, kissed Agnes on her cheek, and turned to leave.

“I’ll just be right over here, sweetheart,” he whispered. “Make sure you can always see me.”

The little girl nodded and gave him a quick kiss him on the cheek before returning to the dancefloor with her friends.

Liz was overwhelmed by what she had witnessed. She had envisioned them living in dark places, only going out at night so as not to be discovered. But that was certainly not the case. The world Red had created for Agnes could only be described as joyous – a life of happiness complete with friends, parties, and laughter. The thought had never occurred to her. For a moment, she thought perhaps she should go - let them live out this fantasy (her fantasy) uninterrupted.

She looked up from her thoughts to find him unknowingly walking directly towards her; not paying attention to those around him, a smile on his face, reliving the joyous moment she had witnessed.

As he neared, she heard herself say softly:

“Red…”


	3. Chapter 3

As he neared, she heard herself say softly:

“Red…” 

Every hair on the back of his neck stood up.  Instant panic.  The past.  A time he thought was over.  They had been discovered!  He instinctively reached for his gun but it wasn’t there.

_When dId I stop carrying my gun?!?!_

As he spun around investigate the intrusion, Liz watched the face of Aggie’s kind, joyous father disappear only to be replaced by hard, cold face of Raymond Reddington. 

Red could never have predicted what he saw.  A ghost. A figment.  An apparition.  Was he losing him mind?

She watched him harden further.  His eyes moving from her to the surveying the landscaping looking for possible threats.   Glancing quickly to make sure Agnes was where he left her.

“I’m sorry. I think you have me confused with someone else,” he said politely, fidgeting with his baseball cap.  “My name is William Markum.” 

“Red, its me…” she replied softly.

The voice sounded familiar.  The woman looked like her. 

_But…she can’t be._

He shook his head and blinked again. 

“I’m truly sorry.  You are?” 

“Elizabeth.  Lizzie…”

His chest tightened at the sound of her name.

“Daddy…” Agnes exclaimed as she bounded towards her father and tugged on his sleeve.

“Can I go play on the swings with Molly?”  

Liz froze; suddenly within feet of her daughter.  

 _She looks like him._   

She surveyed the little girl with the shape of her father’s face as well as his smile.  His kind eyes looking up at her through her daughter.  

Red panicked.  A suddenly needing to get his daughter as far away from this woman as possible. 

“Tim…” he beckoned to the man who had become as much of a friend as he had had since Sam. It helped that Tim was also a single father and that his daughter was Agnes’ best friend.

“Could you keep an eye on Aggie for me for a moment?” 

“Of course, she can come with Molly and me to the swings.  We'll wait for you there,” the man replied, turning towards the children after giving Will a “wow – she’s pretty” wink.

Before sending her with Tim, Red crouched down, eye-to-eye with Agnes. 

“You remember the phone number, right?” 

The little girl looked quizzically at her father, wondering why he was asking.  They never talked about the phone number except when he put her to bed at night.

“Yes,” she replied assuredly. 

“Good.  Please stay where I can see you, ok?”

“Can I go with Molly now?” the child asked impatiently. 

“Of course,” he finished, gently kissing her on the top of her head and he stood up. 

Agnes and Molly bounded down the hill towards the swings as Tim offered him a smile and a shrug before following. 

Red turned back to the woman in front of him.

“Who are you and what do you want?” he asked again, more forcefully this time.

“Its me, Red. I’ve been looking for you.  For you both…for six years.”

“Elizabeth is dead,” he said matter-of-factly before turning away and walking down the hill towards Agnes, Molly, and Tim. 

The fear that the normal life he had been able to offer his daughter was rapidly coming to an end was all consuming.  He was sad that William Markum would be dead by morning only to be reborn again into some other, likely less desirable, form.  He’d grown to like William – a combination of the lightheartedness of the original Raymond and the style, taste and experience of the Concierge of Crime.  It would be harder to make the change this time.

_How do I explain it to Agnes?_

Elizabeth watched him walk away, suddenly terrified.  If they slipped through her fingers this time, she would likely never find them again!  She had to do something…FAST!

“Do you remember the night we created her?” she grasped.  “In the shipping container.  The night you told me that for as long as you could remember, you always dreamed of being captain of a ship.  Out on the ocean…in the middle of the night…navigating by the stars.  You said you never told anyone that before.” 

He stopped but didn’t turn.

_How could anyone but his Lizzie know that?_

He hadn’t told anyone before.  Or since. 

“Do you remember what happened next?”

_Remember!_

He thought about it often.  Replaying their one moment in time over and over in his head for comfort when he needed to feel close to her. 

 

FLASHBACK

“That’s what I see when I look at you.  I see my way home.”

She stepped back to look at him, his gaze towards the stars.  She couldn’t help herself as she reached out and laid her hand on his cheek.  He looked at her for a fleeting moment before covering her hand with his, closing his eyes and turning his lips to her palm, leaving a tender, lingering kiss on her delicate flesh.  Breathing her in.  The gesture caused Liz’s stomach to sommersault.  He had always been so…guarded.  She could only remember the occasional embrace or time he reached out to hold her hand to comfort her.  This, somehow, felt different.  Intimate.  Urgent.  Dangerous!

The moment passed as quickly as it had appeared when she shivered.  Whether it was from the cold or from his touch she couldn’t to discern.   If she were honest with herself, it was the later. 

As she pulled away, he immediately felt he had overstepped their unspoken boundary; crossed the proverbial line. 

_Damn!_

He moved them back inside, mumbling something about it being cold outside, and silently cursed himself for their current predicament.  Why did he think this was such a good idea?  A small shipping container for a number of days with nowhere to retreat?!?!?  So, he poured himself another drink.

“Aren’t you going to offer me one?” she asked innocently, sensing his discomfort with what had happened outside. 

“Of course,” came his polite reply. 

She intentionally approached him to retrieve the cocktail, closing the distance between them.  She had thought about being alone with him.  Wondered what would it be to have him all to herself.  She would have expected gallant gestures like kissing the inside of her palm but hadn’t expected his nervousness afterwards.  She found it endearing.  It was intoxicating to be able to affect him this way. 

_What are you doing, Elizabeth?_

He didn’t look at her when he handed her the scotch on the rocks.  The ice cubes clinking as they executed the hand off.

She reached to take the glass, trapping his finger under hers, not letting go. 

When his eyes hesitantly found hers, their fingers still entwined around the glass, she heard her own voice say:

“Why am I so drawn to you?”

 Red swallowed…hard.  Pulled his hand away, took two full steps backwards and took a large gulp from his glass. 

“Lizzie…you’re not....” he paused, searching for the right words, shaking his head. 

“This has been an incredibly challenging few days for you.  Anyone would be looking for…solace.  Don’t mistake…”

“It’s not only in the last few days…” she interrupted urgently. 

_What are you doing, Liz?_

She stepped towards him, closing the distance between them again, and laid her hand on his chest.

“Your heart is racing.”

Red caught his breath.  This scenario was rapidly moving to a place he would no longer be able to control.  

_Who are you kidding?  You’re not in control NOW._

And Raymond Reddington was ALWAYS in control.   Damn!

“Kiss me, Raymond.”

Red’s mouth went dry and he breathed in sharply at the sound of his name - his real name - on her lips.  And, then his mind registered her request.

“Please don’t ask this of me, Elizabeth,” he pleaded softly.

Still holding the glass in one hand, Liz moved the hand that had been laid gently on his chest up the side of his neck to the back of his head, her hand caressing the short hairs on the back of his neck as she pulled his lips towards hers in a breathless kiss.   

“No…Lizzie…” he whispered, his eyes squeezed shut, his head shaking “no,” as their lips parted.

“I have nothing to offer you…” he said quietly, without opening his eyes. 

She said nothing but her fingers still in his hair, not letting go, spoke volumes.

He sighed loudly as he opened his eyes and pulled away from her, unable to comprehend the end of this dangerous road they were contemplating. 

“Elizabeth, I have endured unimaginable things as captors tried to extract what they wanted from me.  Not once…NOT ONCE, did I give them what they had come for.  But you…”  he paused, a timid, wishful smile crossing his face as he shook his head “no.”  

“I’m powerless against you.  If you touch me again…” his voice barely a whisper.

It was up to her.  That was what he was telling her.  Perhaps asking her to be rational, for both of them.  Perhaps asking her to be certain that he, with everything that meant, was what she wanted.  She could stop, and he would not pursue her.  Ever.   His response to her touch, to her kiss, told her that he wanted her as much as she wanted him.  But, it had to be her choice. 

_What do you really want, Elizabeth?_

Again, for the final time, she closed the gap between them.  This time, wrapping both arms around his neck, kissing him with the desire that had accumulated since “Oh…I think you are very special....”  

He was true to his word.  With this kiss, he took the lead - the nervous boy vanishing; a skilled lover taking his place.  His arms encircled her, pulled her tightly to him, and he returned her kiss with more passion and desire than she had ever experienced.  He belonged to her now.  In truth, he had belonged to her well before his lips ever touched hers.

END FLASHBACK

The more she recounted in exquisite detail their one night together, the weaker he became. He retreated to a nearby bench to sit before the spinning in his head caused him to faint.  Head down, face in his hands, unable to look at her.

“It’s you…” he finally managed, turning to meet his eyes. 


	4. Chapter 4

“It’s you…” he managed, finally turning to meet her eyes. 

Liz only nodded an affirmation.  

“I don’t understand.”

“Daddy…” Agnes bounded in, ejecting him from his stupor. “Can we go home now?”

His head was spinning.  If it were true, there was the potential for danger.  They needed to get someplace safe.

Red pulled himself together and managed a small smile to Agnes before dropping to one knee and circling his arms around his daughter who was looking curiously at Liz. 

  
“Can I introduce you to someone before we go?”

The little girl nodded.

“Agnes, this is my _friend,…_ Elizabeth,” he managed through the lump in his throat. 

“Hi, Miss Elizabeth.  I’m Agnes.  Pleasure to meet you,” the little one replied as she extended her small hand for a handshake.

“That’s my girl,” Red said quietly, beaming with pride, to himself but audible enough for Liz to hear.  

Liz wasn’t sure what to expect when she met her daughter but this child exceeded her expectations.  Beautiful. Smart.  Full of life.  And, certainly, precocious.  Agnes brought a smile to her face immediately.

“The pleasure is mine,” she replied with equal formality as she shook the little girl’s tiny hand.

Still on one knee with his arms around her and looking up at Liz, Red asked, “Should we see if Miss Elizabeth would like to join us for dinner tonight at our house?”

The little girl thought for a moment.  She couldn’t remember ever having guests.  Other than Molly and her dad, of course.

“What would we make?” 

Red chuckled at his daughter’s practicality.  “Well, we were going to make lasagna for us tonight. I imagine there would be enough for a guest.”

Agnes shook her head and turned back to Liz.

“Would you like to have lasagna for dinner?”

Liz’s heart melted. Pushing back the tears at the invitation from her six-year daughter, she replied: “I would love to have lasagna for dinner tonight.”

Despite Liz’s instance she had not been followed, that no one knew where she was, Red took every precaution.  After multiple stops to which he followed her rental car, dusting off his old deductive and observation skills as they went, he was satisfied they were safe, for the time being at least.  Only then had he allowed her to follow them home and pull her rental car into garage beside his.   This domestic move gave Liz pause.  Never in her wildest dreams had she imagined a “Honey, I’m home!” moment that involved Raymond Reddington.  She stifled a smile as the thought moved through her mind.

She followed them into what, by all accounts, was a very ordinary suburban home.  Shadows of Raymond Reddington’s taste were visible in small things – the art on the walls, the books on the shelves, the wine in the wine rack.   But then she noticed the pictures on the walls.  Pictures of a little girl as she grew.  Pictures of a happy, sometimes silly, father and his daughter.  Liz’s exploration was interrupted by an enthusiastic Agnes who was very excited about having company!

“Do you want to see my room,” she bubbled.

“Ok,” Liz smiled, looking at Red for approval. 

Overwhelmed by the events of the afternoon and now her presence in their home, he had no words. Only nodded, nearly imperceptibly, in the affirmative.

As they scurried off to Agnes’ room, Red sat in silence alone at the familiar kitchen table; a state of shock consuming him.   She died.  He mourned her.  He made decisions that he thought were in the best interests of his daughter.  They had built a life - a simple, normal life.   But the primary assumption upon which he created this world was that Elizabeth was gone.   Forever.   But now…she wasn’t. 

After what seemed like an eternity, Red managed to pull himself from the table.   Lasagna.  Agnes had promised her mother lasagna for dinner.   

 _Her mother._  

He pulled the recipe and some ingredients out of the cupboard and put them on the counter along with a bowl and spoon.

He approached Agnes’ room quietly, hearing their voices as he approached.

“Do you like tea?” the little voice asked.

“I love tea,” said the older voice.

“I make very good tea.  If you watch the baby, I can make us some.”  Red heard as he silently rounded the corner, propping himself in the doorframe just in time to watch Agnes putting her favorite doll into her mother’s arms so she could make a proper pot of imaginary tea.   

“I would be happy to watch the baby,” Liz beamed.

He watched them drink imaginary tea and pass the “baby” back and forth.  Liz asked questions about Agnes favorite things – her favorite color, animal, books.  Agnes produced the doll’s “baby brother” so they could each rock a baby as they drank tea.

They seemed…comfortable.   Something about this scene felt right.  Other things caused him unexplained pain in his chest.   

“Hi Daddy,” Agnes said, finally noticing him after several minutes. 

Liz turned to see Red standing in the doorway. 

“How long have you been there?” 

“Long enough,” was the warm, almost welcoming, smile.

“Agnes, I believe we promised Miss Elizabeth dinner.”

“Oh…right…” she said getting up and quickly hurrying towards the kitchen. 

“Just a minute…who do you expect will clean up this lovely tea party?” 

 "Sorry Daddy,” the little girl replied as she hurried back to put things back in their place before grabbing her father’s hand and walking with him to the kitchen.

 Upon reaching the kitchen, she grabbed a small apron from the drawer and put it over her head as her father tied it behind her.

Agnes then proceed to push a stool up to the counter and begin reading the recipe.

"1 pound sweet Italian sausage."  Red handed the ingredient to Agnes and she poured it into the bowl.  

“1 tablespoon of garlic."  Again, Red handed over the item and Agnes put it in the bowl.  

Liz looked at Red quizzically.

“Is she…reading that?”

“Yes – she reads at a 4th grade level,” he replied proudly as he grabbed a bottle of wine from the rack as Agnes continued to read.  

“This one daddy?” she asked, holding up the ¾ cup measuring cup.

“Look again. Compare it to the number on the recipe,” he corrected gently.

“Oh…I got it,” she said, holding up the right cup, measuring the minced onion and pouring them into the bowl.

As Agnes cooked, Red poured two generous glasses of red wine and handed one to Liz

“I think we could both use a drink.  Don’t you?”

Liz nodded with sigh and a small sigh. 

“Thank you,” she mouthed, hoping he understood she was thanking him for so much more than the glass of wine. 

“Daddy, now we need the can of crushed tomatoes,” Agnes interrupted, pointing to the can on the counter.  Without missing a beat, Red grabbed the can opener and handed the now open can to Agnes.  She dumped it into the bowl and continued adding ingredients, stopping to stir, taking direction from her father when necessary; inquisitive when something didn’t compute. 

Liz watched this ritual in awe.  These two were an incongruous combination of a father teaching his young daughter how to cook and old married couple who had worked together this way for years.  They anticipated each other’s movements.  Had similar mannerisms.  Played off each other’s jokes.   Each clearly the center of the other’s universe.  Her heart sank as she wondered how she would ever fit into this well-oiled machine.   

“Are we done?” Agnes asked.

“Taste it”

Agnes proceed to dip a finger into the bowl and licked it off.   

“What does it need?”

“Garlic,” the little girl with the overly sophisticated palate replied quickly.

“No, Agnes.   There is no way it could need more garlic,” Red replied confidently, dipping his finger into the bowl without thinking.  

“Sorry…” he said sheepishly to Lizzie.  “We’re not accustomed to implementing sanitary measures one would employ with guests”                                                                

Liz couldn’t help but laugh out loud. 

“You’re right!” Red exclaimed with surprise.  “It does need garlic!”

Agnes giggled.

“That’s my girl!”  he said proudly, kissing her on top of the head.

Dinner was quiet between the adults but Agnes kept everyone entertained.  She had most certainly been christened with her father’s charisma and storytelling gift.   They learned all about the squished frog she and Molly had found at the park and how much all the little girls loved that her daddy had come to dance with them.  With each story, Liz became more smitten.   

By the time the kitchen had been returned to its pre-Agnes-making-lasagna state, the young lady was beginning to yawn. 

“If you’ll excuse us, I think it is Agnes’ bed time,” Red said as the little one leaned against his leg.

“Daddy, I want to stay up with you and Miss Elizabeth,” she protested, tiredly.

“You can spend more time with Miss Elizabeth tomorrow.  Please say goodnight.”

Agnes shuffled her tired feet towards Liz.

“Thank you for coming over for dinner.   And for rocking my baby." 

Liz felt a lump grow in her throat at the thought of rocking her baby.

“You’re welcome. Sleep well,” was all Liz could manage.

“I’ll be back in a little bit,” drawing an imaginary line, letting Liz know that he was not yet prepared to share this particular ritual. 

Red took Agnes by the hand and walked down the hall to her room.

But Liz couldn’t help herself, her desire to play the role of observer too strong.  She crept down the hall to listen.

“You remember the phone number?”

“Yes – 734-832-9817.  And I tell them my name is Agnes and that I need help.”

“That’s my, girl.   Agnes…how do you feel about Miss Elizabeth staying with us for a while?” 

The little girl sat quietly, contemplating the question.   She liked this new lady but wasn’t sure she wanted to share her toys all the time. 

“Where would she sleep?”

“In the guest room.  The one that we never use.” 

The sleep was beginning to take over. 

“Ok,” she yawned.

“Daddy, would you stay with me until I fall asleep?”

“Of course, I will,” Red replied, buying some quiet time, uneasy about what would happen when he returned to Elizabeth’s company. 

After Agnes fell asleep, Red retreated to his room and immediately to the safe where he found his gun.  He couldn’t remember the last time he had felt the need for it.  There was a time, decades of time in fact, where he wouldn’t have dared have it out of site.  Just when did that change?  He remembered forgetting it one day and feeling uneasy, but then, he became…comfortable.  Red shook his head and sighed as he returned the gun to its customary location. The chill of the metal against his skin a stark reminder that reality had returned.

As he returned to the great room, Red grabbed a stool from under the counter and stood on it, reaching high into the cabinet above the refrigerator for a dusty bottle.  Scotch.  He hadn’t indulged a single time since he had taken his daughter from the crib in the makeshift nursery determined to disappear all those years ago.  He had wanted to experience every moment of her life with 100% of his faculties.  And, he needed to be vigilant.  Not get too comfortable.  Be able to always make a split second decision.  But tonight…he needed a drink.  

He poured two glasses, fuller than he intended, and walked towards Elizabeth who was staring into the fire.  She looked at him with a hint gratitude as she took the glass, a jolt running through her as their fingers touches briefly in the exchange.  Apparently, he could still affect her she thought with a shudder.  

“How do you know you haven’t been followed?  How do you know we are not in danger?” Red asked, a more forcefully than he intended.

“Because all but two people in the world think I’m dead,” Liz replied, matter-of-factly.   It had taken years but she had come to terms with her fate and didn’t appreciate his accusations. 

“Which two?”

“Mr. Kaplan and Aram.”

Red looked at her quizzically.  Tom thinks she is dead?  Dembe?   Cooper?

Red sighed heavily.  

So many questions.

“I need to understand, Elizabeth,” he said softly, turning away from her towards the window. 

“I watched you die.”


	5. Chapter 5

“I need to understand, Elizabeth,” he said softly, turning away from her towards the window.

Silence

“I watched you die,” he said, more forcefully than he intended as he turned back towards her.

“I sat over your body. I held your hand as the life drained out of you. I kissed….” He stopped, unable to continue.

She could hear the pain in his voice.

“How?” he asked, his voice returning to a whisper, as his mind questioned.

_Do you really want to know?_

Liz held her breath. All these years she had prepared for his moment. Of course, he would want to know! How could he not want to know how she had so terribly betrayed him. How she had made him believe such a painful truth? But now, standing here, his pain clearly on display, she didn’t know what to say or even where to begin.

_How?_

That was all he asked. He didn’t ask “why.” Why she chose to take their child and run from him with such finality. “Why” was the far more difficult of the two. “How” she could answer.

Liz felt the weight of his gaze.

“Mr. Kaplan,” she said simply.

Red’s eye twitched noticeably as he considered his life-long friend playing a role in this obscene drama. The pain in his eyes imploring her to continue.

“She came to me. To Tom and me. After Agnes was born. After I asked you to leave…” her voice trailed off remembering their final moments together.

“She told us Agnes would never be safe in your world and offered to help us,” Liz stopped there. Her mouth dry.

He didn’t speak; a hardened look entered his eyes. He was preparing himself to hear more.

She whispered the details – how they would make him believe she was dead and after a suitable time she would join Agnes and Tom. Mr. Kaplan would provide them new identities and they would be “free.” Free to be a family. Free to raise “their” daughter. Free to be “normal.” Free of all that was Raymond Reddington and, more importantly, all that followed him.

“But it didn’t work,” she said, turning away, wiping the tears that silently rolled down her cheek.

Witnessing her tears, Red’s face softened ever so slightly as he released the breath he was holding.

Liz composed herself and started again.

“There were…complications. The antidote that was to revive me failed and Nick was forced to take other, more extreme measures. I was in a coma. Unresponsive for weeks. When I finally regained consciousness, Mr. Kaplan told me you and Agnes were gone.”

Red remembered it like it was yesterday - the day he chose to raise his daughter.

FLASHBACK

_“Raymond, what are you doing?” Dembe questioned as Red stood before him holding the newborn infant inside the makeshift apartment._

_“Does her father know what you are doing?”_

_“Yes – he does.”_

_Dembe raised an eyebrow, unable to believe that Tom would simply give the child to Reddington._

_“I’m her father, Dembe.”_

_Dembe breathed deeply. If he honestly thought about it, he wasn’t surprised. He had watched Raymond and Elizabeth together; watched their relationship evolve. The looks, the touches, the actions themselves speaking volumes._

_“Where will you go?”_

_“To a place where I can be her father,” was the firm reply._

_“I’ve asked Marvin to initiate the protocol.”_

_Dembe smiled. He would do the same thing if he were in Raymond’s shoes. His friend deserved to be happy and he hoped with all his heart he could pull it off._

_“God willing, we won’t see each other again, old friend. Please know I’m grateful for…everything,” Red said sincerely, holding Dembe’s gaze for what seemed like an eternity before tearing himself away._

_Red lay a sleeping Agnes back in her crib and proceeded to set up camera so as to show the entire room before turning it on and walking in front of it._

_“Tom…I think you know Agnes’ physician,” Red began, moving enough to reveal the obviously frightened doctor standing behind him._

_“I realize this is likely going to come as a shock to you,” he continued calmly as he removed his jacket and rolled up his sleeve._

_“Agnes is not your biological daughter. She’s mine,” he said matter-of-factly as the doctor, per previous instructions, drew a vile of blood from Reddington’s arm, in clear view of the camera, and placed it in the cooler that was set on the table._

_“With Elizabeth gone…” he continued as he rolled down his sleeve and approached the crib._

_“…I’m simply unwilling to allow YOU to raise my child,” he finished, looking directly at the camera._

_Red turned his attention to Agnes in her crib, a broad smile crossing his face as he picked her up and approached the doctor._

_“I’m sure you’ll want proof, which is what I’m providing you.”_

_Agnes wailed as the doctor inserted the needle to draw a similar vile of blood from the infant and placed it in the cooler._

_Red then proceed to handcuff the doctor to the exposed pipes near the crib, still visible in the camera shot._

_“According to my sources, you will arrive shortly. Between this recording, the vials of blood you, and the doctor, I think you have enough evidence.” Red turn again directly to the camera. “Don’t follow us, Tom.” He warned._

_“The reason not to kill you died with Elizabeth.”_

_With that, Red turned, Agnes in his arms, and walked out the door. Leaving Dembe and the physician inside. Baz closing it behind him._

 


	6. Chapter 6

FLASHBACK TO SIX YEARS EARLIER

Kate Kaplan glanced at Elizabeth with a sigh. 

It had been four weeks.  No change.

The deafening silence of the room broken only by the medial equipment keeping Elizabeth alive, was interrupted as the door flung open and Tom barged into the small hideaway where Elizabeth lay motionless in the hospital bed.

“There gone,” he shouted.

Kate first glanced at Elizabeth.   Hoping the outburst had some effect.   It didn’t.

“You are not supposed to be here, Tom,” she chastised, quickly closing the door behind him.

“And…who is gone?”

“Reddington,” he spat.

“And, HIS daughter.  Agnes.” 

Kaplan’s eyes widened. 

“What are you talking about?” astounded by Tom’s comments.

“They are gone!  Reddington said Agnes was HIS daughter and he was taking her.” 

Tom turned to Liz’s lifeless body.

“And he left…proof.  Proof, Liz,” he shouted at her, or, at least, at her body.

“What the hell is going on!” he roared, inches from Elizabeth’s expressionless face.

She did not move.

“Enough, Tom,” Kaplan scolded. 

“Let me see it.”  she said, calmly.  Not wanting to divulge the full magnitude of her plan without reason.

As Kate watched the recording, the truth became more and more difficult to deny.

 “If she wakes up, I want to talk to talk to her,” Tom spat.

"If?" Kate questioned.

“I want an explanation.  You owe me an explanation,” he seethed, directly to Liz’s lifeless body, before shooting Kate an angry stare and storming out of the room.

_This wasn’t what was supposed to happen!  Elizabeth, Tom, and the baby were supposed to be miles from here by now.  Living their “normal” life._

Kate Kaplan thought as she sat near the body of Elizabeth Keen; on life support but far from alive. Raymond was supposed to be grieving and “getting over it” as anyone who had had a loved one proceed them in death would do. 

 _But, no._  

Kate’s plan to save not only Elizabeth, but also Raymond’s daughter, had gone extraordinarily wrong.   Yes – she knew that the child belonged to him.  How, she couldn’t say; but she knew.  Perhaps it was the way Raymond acted in the months since his time on the run with Elizabeth; even more protective than usual of her.  Perhaps it was Elizabeth’s constant need to remind everyone, including Raymond, that Tom was the father of the child she was carrying or her desperate proposal of marriage to the would-be daddy.  Maybe it was her insistence that the marriage take place at the first opportunity.  But it was the way Raymond carefully stood watch outside the makeshift delivery room and the momentary look of joy and pride on his face when he heard the baby’s first cry that confirmed it for Kate.

_You are only doing what you have always done.  What you have done since the day she was born!_

Kate had told her herself.  Protect Elizabeth. Protect Raymond from himself; as she should have done when he insisted on returning to Elizabeth’s world in the first place.  And now, protect this new life.  

_Instinctively, he knows will that his presence in Agnes’ life, particularly should anyone learn he was her father, is a death sentence to the child.  That's why he allowed Elizabeth to live the charade in the first place._

She had told herself.  Surely, he would thank her one day in the future; should she ever have the courage to tell him. 

But then everything changed.   A scenario she hadn’t considered, much less prepared for, was now in play. 

Who knew that Nic wouldn’t be able to revive her?   

Who knew that Raymond would go entirely “off the grid” for weeks?

Who knew that he would even consider raising an infant alone? 

And, probably the most unlikely, who knew that Raymond Reddington would, or even could, actually disappear. 

On the recording, he talked about “the protocol.”   Yes – there was a plan but not one that would allow him to simply vanish.  Hide for a while, perhaps.  But not permanently, and certainly not with an infant in tow.   

How could she ever explain to Elizabeth?!?   She had to find them!  

END FLASHBACK


	7. Chapter 7

Red remembered it like it was yesterday - the day he chose to raise his daughter.

“Red?” Liz’s voice jarring him out of his memory

He turned to face her; still in awe that she was standing before him. Alive!

“How did you find you us?” Red questioned, concern for their safety audible in his voice.

Liz sighed. Waking to learn that their plan had failed in the most incomprehensible way possible was a blow for which she could have never prepared. She had gone to such great lengths to make sure she could protect her daughter and watch her grow. And suddenly, she would be able to do neither. 

She looked at him with determination. 

“Did you know there are 3,742 single fathers with infant daughters that fit your profile in the world?” 

Her eyes held his.

“I was close. Twice,” she confessed.

“When she was eight months old, you were in Buenos Aries, weren’t you?”

Red nodded silently.

The tears returned to Elizabeth’s eyes.

“I found it; the place you were staying. I could only have been hours, maybe a day behind you. I could still smell your cologne on the pillow.”

Red’s heart sank. He wasn’t running from her. He was running from himself. The past he had created. In the early years, they had moved a lot. Each time he felt himself getting comfortable, he would pack up their things and employ a new identity. 

“Today, I was on number 2,643.”

She had been searching for them. Door to door. City by city. Country by country. One by one. 

All the moments of the last six years replayed themselves in his mind. Agnes’ first steps. First words. First. First. First. The special bond that had grown between them. She had missed it all as she had searched the corners of the earth looking for them. 

His heart ached and a lump grew in his throat. Guilt. That’s what it was. 

Suddenly, without warning, Liz began to cry. To weep, uncontrollably. Six years of searching. Of pain. Of disappointment. Of determination. All culminating today when she walked up to the home of William and Katherine Markum. 

Instinctively, Red immediately moved towards her, taking her in his strong arms and pulling her tightly to him. He held her close; held her as her tears turned to sobs. He felt her silky hair on his face. Breathed in the scent he never expected to experience again. 

“I would never have taken her from you, Elizabeth,” he choked. 

“Never…”


	8. Chapter 8

Liz awoke in the “Markum’s” guest room after the best night’s sleep she had had in years to voices in the distance. If she listened carefully, she could hear what they were saying.

“I think we should make pancakes for Miss Elizabeth when she wakes up.”

“Ok…blueberry pancakes or regular pancakes.”

“Do we have blueberries?” the little voice asked astutely.

“You should look.”

Liz smiled to herself listening to the pair. Agnes was…perfect. She couldn’t have done a better job raising her than Red had done. And Red…when he had held her last night she had melted into his arms. His warmth. His smell. The gentle yet tight way he held her, comforted her. She could hardly believe she had found them.

Then she heard a small knock at the door.

“Miss Elizabeth…” the little voice whispered.

“Good morning, Agnes,” Liz said cheerfully.

“You’re wake!” she said, opening the door with a big smile. Red’s smile.

“Would you like pancakes for breakfast? We have blueberries!” she announced.

Liz melted for the 100th time in less than 24 hours.

“I’m very excited about blueberry pancakes!” she replied as Red appeared in the doorway.

“Agnes, I asked you to see if Miss Elizabeth was awake. Not to wake her,” he chided gently, shaking his head.

“I’m sorry,” he directed to Liz.

“Please don’t ever be sorry,” Liz replied, holding his gaze.

Red pulled his eyes from Liz, turning to Agnes.

“Let’s go start breakfast. Miss Elizabeth will join us soon,” he said, ushering the child out of the room.

  
After another meal exquisitely prepared by a father and his daughter, it was time for school.

“Agnes, get your books please.”

Before the words were even out of her father’s mouth, the six-year-old little girl had a stack of books on the table.

“Can we do math first?” she asked with enthusiasm.

Liz looked at Red. After all, most six-year-old’s didn’t know what math was much less asked for it to be the first subject.

Red just shook his head and shrugged. Yes – he had taught her to read at a fourth grade level, she was doing second grade math, and could name most countries in the western hemisphere. He was very proud of her…and himself.

Liz sat by the fire pretending to read while they worked through what could only be their usual routine. Red was very patient; far more than she would have been. Allowing Agnes to make her own mistakes yet answering every question she asked. The two sat at the table all morning. The focus of both of them something to be admired.

As they finished their final lesson of the morning, Agnes got up from the table and walked over to her father, beckoning him closer to her.

“What is it, sweetheart,” he asked, perplexed by her behavior.

Liz watched as Agnes again motioned for him to come closer and stood on her tiptoes to whisper in her father’s ear.

He listened intently.

“Well…we can if you wish…” he replied to the whisper.

Agnes smiled widely and whispered again.

“Yes…I think she would. If you ask her,” he flashed Liz a small smile and a raised eyebrow.

Agnes smiled again and looked at Elizabeth.

“Would you like to go on a picnic with us?” she giggled.

Liz couldn’t help the grin that crossed her face. A picnic warranted a whisper. Charming! A wave of melancholy crossed her.

_I’ve missed so much._

Agnes caught the sadness the crossed her mother’s face and looked at her father; confused by the behavior.

Red’s heart sank, too. If the volume of emotions that Liz was experiencing was anything like what he was feeling, it was…crushing.

“Elizabeth,” he said gently.

Liz forced herself from her melancholy, walked towards Agnes, and crouched down to look her in the eye.

“I would love nothing more than to go on a picnic with you and your dad, Agnes,” she smiled widely.

After packing what could only be called a gourmet picnic, the trio boarded bikes outside the house. Agnes, sporting a bright pink bike helmet, rode a one-wheeled tag-along attached to the back of her father’s bike. Clearly very proud of her riding abilities.

They rode for longer than Liz expected. Red was seemingly as fit as he had been six years earlier as he pulled Agnes behind him.

They entered a deserted park complete with a small lake and extensive playground.

“Pick a spot,” Red said as he handed Agnes the picnic blanket.

“Ok,” she said enthusiastically as she ran off with the blanket.

Liz looked at Red.

“Thank you, Red.”

Red just smiled with a small nod. He struggled with the site of her before him. Even after he had held her in his arms the night before, she felt like a ghost. He was compelled to reach out and touch her again to ensure she was real but…couldn’t.

“I found a good spot!” Agnes interrupted with a shout.

“Come on! I’ll show you,” she exclaimed, grabbing her father’s hand in one hand and her mother’s in the other, dragging them towards the picnic spot.

Liz froze. Tears again welling in her eyes.

“The theater?” Red inquired, quietly.

_He remembered!_

“I’m sorry. I know it’s not quite…right,” he apologized.  After all, she was supposed to be with her husband. With Tom.

Just the thought pierced him like an arrow.

“No…Red…” Liz began.

“Come on…” Agnes said impatiently.

“Ok…” Red said, giving Liz an empathic shrug before enthusiastically following his daughter’s lead.

She led them to the “perfect” picnic spot where she had spread the blanket as well as any six-year-old could.

“Daddy, will you catch me on the slide?”

“How about if Miss Elizabeth catches you and I will prepare lunch?”

Agnes stopped. Her dad had always been the one to catch her when she came down the slide. She wasn’t sure she wanted someone else.

“Maybe you both could catch me?” she said hesitantly.

“Alright, that sounds like a good plan,” Red replied, sensing his daughter’s hesitation as he motioned to Elizabeth to join them.

They started taking turns catching Agnes as she went down the slide until Liz was at the bottom twice in a row. And then, three times in a row. Pretty soon, Red had retreated to a nearby swing; watching them from afar.

It didn’t take long before Agnes had warmed up to the idea of Liz being part of this ritual. It was amazing to him how adaptable children were. How accepting. How trusting. Having Agnes look for him every so often comforted him. Each time, he waved and smiled. She returned the greeting and went back to playing with Elizabeth. Elizabeth clearly cherishing each moment.

_How is this going to end?_

Red would be a fool if he didn’t acknowledge that Elizabeth would want Agnes back. The thought made his heart hurt.

As the trio was finishing a light lunch of peanut butter sandwiches, made by Agnes of course, the little girl yawned.

“Agnes, perhaps it is time for a short nap?”

“I’m not tired, Daddy,” Agnes said with another yawn.

Red knew where this was headed. An over-tired six-year-old was never a good thing. Part of the reason he usually kept a rather prescribed schedule of daily events.

“Ok. How about if you just rest by me for a while, then?” Red suggested as he lay down on his side on the blanket, propped up on his elbow.

Agnes considered his proposal with another yawn.

“Come here, Agnes,” he said gently but firmly.

The tired little one relented, curling up in the crook of her father’s arm on the blanket as he gently ran his hand over her back.

“This will only take a minute,” Red mouthed to Liz with a reassuring smile.

“Daddy…”

“Yes”

“What will you and Miss Elizabeth do if I fall asleep?”

“We will stay right here until you wake up,” Red assured her as he brushed her hair off her face.

“Ok,” she replied, sleepily.

Liz watch this newest ritual with awe. Red knew his daughter so well. Anticipated each of her needs eloquently.

“See,” he said softly a few minutes later as the little one lay sleeping beside him.

“She’s amazing, Red,” Liz smiled, shaking her head.

“She’s you...” he replied, softly, unable to look at her.


	9. Chapter 9

Later that night, Agnes already sleeping soundly in her bed, Elizabeth broke the silence that enfolded them.

“When did you know?”

_About Agnes._

He thought to himself.

_This is the conversation we should have had six years ago!_

“Before you were willing to acknowledge she was on her way,” he replied with a shrug.

Liz looked at him curiously. She had always been a little uneasy about his response when she told him she was pregnant. Telling her he had known for “some time” simply by her mood, her body. How could he truly have known before her?!

“Do you know why I turned the ship around?” he asked quietly.

Come to think of it, she didn’t really know. All she knew was that when she came out of the bedroom of the shipping container the morning after they had made love, he announced that they had been playing defense for too long and that it was time to play offence. They would stop running and turn their attention to clearing her name. There was no mention of their night together, by either of them, again.

“You had to have the opportunity to choose,” he said diplomatically.

Liz remained silent.

“Elizabeth, you came to me that night…searching, not for me, but for familiarity…safety… security,” he said, firmly believing she hadn’t truly wanted HIM that night.

“We could have simply disappeared. Lived some fantastic romantic fantasy, I suppose. We were well on our way. But…”

He turned away from her, somehow ashamed by the memory.

“As I lie awake, watching you asleep sleep next to me, I just…couldn’t….”

The pain on his face was visible as he recalled the inner struggle he had had with himself that night.

“You needed to be able to choose. To choose your path. Choose your life partner. Not simply be appointed one out of…necessity.”

Liz’s heart sank. Despite all that had transpired between them, he had felt unworthy of her affection. Of her love.

“Red...it wasn’t…” she interrupted.

_He needs to know!_

“Please…let me finish. There is more you need to understand.”

Liz relented, nodding for him to continue.

“We spent the next months working towards our goal. I purposely kept you at arm’s length to avoid any further…complication. But then, when it was over. You were free. Exonerated. When I met you outside the police station and you threw yourself into my arms…”

A smile crossed his face at his memory and disappeared just as quickly.

“I thought, perhaps, there would be a chance.”

He sighed as he turned towards her.

“It’s absurd, I know. Given who I am and who you were. But…there was going to be a child…”

_He knew then!_

Liz couldn’t believe it. She had suspected that she might be pregnant but, given her extraordinary circumstances, simply couldn’t face it. Pushed it to the back of her mind. If she simply didn’t acknowledge, it perhaps it would go away. It has never occurred to her that he might be able to tell!  That he would know in uncertain terms that the chid was his. 

“But then, when you had the freedom to choose…” his voice trailed off as he again turned away from her.

“The very next day you choose...Tom,” he said dryly.

Liz was mortified. He knew she went to see Tom?!?! Damn him and his all-knowingness (if that was even a word). When she turned to confront him about how he knew that little tidbit of information, she was met by more of the story.

“I thought, if I stayed close, let this impulse pass…” he continued, turning again to the window.

“But again, when you finally told me you were pregnant and had the opportunity to name the father of your child, you, again, chose Tom.”

Liz couldn’t quietly listen any more.

“Red, it wasn’t…like that…” she protested, wanting to tell him. Tell about her feelings for him. About her fear of those feelings. Wanted to shout at him:

_You can’t imagine what it was like to be in love with Number Four on the FBI’s Most Wanted List much less caring his child!_

“I know I frustrated you, Elizabeth. I know it felt like I was smothering you. You chose Tom to be the father of your child. Over and over throughout the course of your pregnancy. You chose Tom. Fine. But, I couldn’t just walk away.”

She never even considered the depth of the pain she had caused him. Stupidly, never imagined he knew the baby was his. Liz listened, face in her hands as he continued.

“After you…died,” he choked. “I left. Left our daughter in Tom’s care because…that was what you wanted. I was…lost…without you. Decided that you were right. I would only bring to her what I brought to you – misery, violence, and…death."

Liz cringed at the word "death.

"And our daughter would be safer if I were to simply cease to exist.”

Liz raised her head at these words.

_Ceased to exist._

That was NEVER what she wanted.

“Red…you’re putting words in my mouth. I never wanted you…”

“But then I remembered holding Agnes in the nightclub after you were gone. I remembered my own eyes looking back at me. And it occurred to me that, at some point, Tom would figure it out,” Red hardened as he relayed the story.

“And he would hurt her. So I made a decision…”

It was at that moment that Liz realized she hadn’t really thought through her plan. Of course, the baby would in no way resemble Tom! And, yes, Tom would hurt her.

A tear silent slide down her cheek.


	10. Chapter 10

_For those of you who like to go the extra mile, the songs that inspired this scene are Joshua Radin’s Beautiful Day and Brand New Day. You might listen to them while you read this chapter._

 

Liz awoke after a restless night to the sound of music, rather than voices, coming from the dining room. She hadn’t slept well at all. Red’s revelations of the night before had left her distressed and guilt-ridden.

As she lay in bed trying to decide how to tell Red that he was wrong, that what he believed was not how she truly felt or what she intended, the music she heard from the dining room became mingled with voices and laughter. Laugher from both Red and Agnes.

Liz suddenly felt left out. She had missed so much already!  She threw on her jeans and sweater from the night before and went to investigate.

She stood in the doorway bearing witness to a scene similar to when she found them at the park just days earlier. Agnes giggling in the arms of her father as he danced with her around the dining room – sometimes in his arms, other times just a much shorter dance partner who liked to be twirled. Sometimes he was singing. Sometimes Agnes. Sometimes they would sing together. She had been right. This was not a new ritual. Dancing and singing were staples in the Markum household.

_Who would have predicted this?!?!?_

It was Agnes that, from the arms of her father, spotted Liz first.

“Do you want to dance with us?” she giggled, innocently.

Red stopped. Still surprised each time Liz walked in the room.

While Agnes, oblivious to the awkward dynamic that had pervaded the household since the new lady showed up, beckoned Liz to join them, Red’s posture suggested otherwise.

He looked at his daughter who was frantically waving her mother over to join the fun. She was a perfect mix of the two of them. She had the shape of his face, his eyes, and his smile but her mother’s petite nose, high cheekbones, and long dark hair. She had his charisma but her mother’s sensitivity when it came to reading people. In fact, she sensed his hesitation at the invitation she had extended.

“Daddy?”

Red offer her a small smile. All this child wanted was for the three of them to dance together. How could he deny such a simple request when everything he had done for the past six years was to make her happy?

With a small, hesitant smile, Red, still holding Agnes, extended his hand towards Liz.

Liz’s heart skipped a beat.

Without a word, she placed her palm in Red’s. He lay her hand on his shoulder and wrapped his arm around her waist. Liz in one arm. Agnes in the other.

The little girl giggled as the three of them danced around the dining room.

Music to his ears.

Before long, smiles and laughter filled the room.  The scene somehow even more natural with the three of them than it had been with the two of them.

Agnes wiggled to get down. Leaving Liz alone in Red’s arms.

“Daddy, twirl Miss Elizabeth,” she commanded.

Red always followed his daughter’s instructions. He pulled Liz closer and continued the dance as Agnes twirled beside them.

“Is there always dancing at your house?”

Red thought for a moment.

“Yes.”

Liz’s eyes asked for more.

“When she was an infant. It was the only thing that would calm her. Our life was less…settled then. When she was restless, I would turn some music on and dance until she fell asleep. Then…” he chuckled at the memory, “…when she started to talk she would sing along. It just evolved from there.”

More things Liz could never had anticipated about Raymond Reddington.

Red pulled himself back from the memory and returned his attention to Agnes.

“Are you ready for our big finish?” Red asked Agnes.

“The dip?” Agnes laughed.

“Hold on,” Red whispered, close enough to her ear for Liz to feel his warm breath on the side her face causing a her to shiver inexplicitly.

The music came to an end as Red lowered Liz into a final gallant dip in front of Agnes.

“Good, right?” Red inquired at Agnes with a big smile, still holding Liz in position.

“Yeah…” Agnes clapped.

Red moved to release them from the pose to find Liz gazing, not at Agnes, but at him.

He paused.

Then brought them back to standing position slowly; never loosing eye contact with Liz.

_Silence._

_Deafening silence._

“I’m so sorry,” Liz whispered, sincerely.

Red’s chest tightened.

_Sorry for what? For their indiscretion that night on the ship? For not being there for her daughter? For choosing Tom? For hiding his child from him? For setting this hurtful course of events in motion?_

Red was stunned when she wrapped her arms around his neck and pulled him into a tight embrace. The feel of her against him. Her breath on his neck. All he had ever wanted.

He couldn’t resist her. He returned her embrace. Releasing the breath he had been holding.

Agnes watched the adults with curiosity. She had never seen her dad with his arms around someone before; other than her, of course. It made her feel funny. She wasn’t sure she liked the idea. He looked sad.

She wanted it to stop but she didn’t know what to do.

Then she had an idea! She ran to her room, grabbed an oddly-shaped case from the corner and rushed back to the dining room to find the scene just as she had left it.

“Do you think Ms. Emma will be happy with my Bach this week,” Agnes asked, loudly.

With the interjection of the little voice, the moment ended.

Red released Elizabeth with a final gaze and turned enthusiastically to Agnes.

“Well…we have been practicing,” Red answered, encouragingly.

Liz regained her bearing. Right…Agnes. Not accustomed to having a child around, she had nearly forgotten the presence of the little girl.

_You’re a terrible parent, Liz._

She studied the case. Agnes played the violin. She fell even more in love.

“Do you think Ms. Emma will think I’m ready to play with her?”

Red’s head tilted. He clearly didn’t think so but was trying to be positive.

“I think she’ll think you’re ready to play with me,” he said with a broad smile.

“But Daddy, you’re terrible!”

“Thanks,” Red said sarcastically, glancing with a shrug towards Liz. All she could do was smile at the exchange.

“Can Ms. Elizabeth come to my lesson?”

“If she would like,” Red answered, not sure it was a great idea.

Liz, of course, jumped at the chance.

“I would love to,” she replied enthusiastically.

“Agnes, how long have you been playing the violin?”

“Since I was two. Although Ms. Emma only let me have a cardboard violin when I was little,” she said, matter-of-factly walking towards the door.

Liz beamed at Red. Was there anything this child couldn’t do?

“Agnes, would you please go brush your hair and your teeth before we go?”

Oh…right. In trying to stop the intimate moment that was occurring between her parents, she had entirely forgotten!

“Ok, Daddy,” she said as she rushed back down the hall.

“You should read this before we go,” Red said, handing Elizabeth a file folder with the label “William Markum.”

“And we should decide who you are. I don’t want to uproot Agnes because we were not prepared,” he finished firmly.

Liz nodded in agreement.

As Liz read the file, Red donned his “William Markum” attire including the now signature wire-rimmed glasses and baseball cap. Seeing him in casual attire and these accompaniments still jarred Liz.

_The same…yet different._

According to the file, William Markum was a retired investment banker. William had grown up in Boston and held multiple degrees from Oxford. He was an only child and both of his parents were deceased. The firm he had served, based in Boston, still maintained a web address with complete information on William including photos that, if you suspended belief a bit, could be a younger version of the man who currently claimed the name. William was a confirmed bachelor until, at 48 met the love of his life, Diane Elder, who was 20 years his junior. Diane went to a private liberal arts college outside of Boston and worked as a court clerk until she was introduced to William by a mutual friend. The couple married and tried for five years to have a child. They were blessed with Katherine but Diane died from complications in childbirth. After her death, William closed his business and devoted all his energy to raising their daughter. He left Boston and he and Katherine settled in the Seattle suburbs.

In addition to the formal entry, there were things written, in Red’s hand, in the margins.

_Ex-girlfriend named Molly from London._

_Tended bar in Boston to support his fledgling practice._

_Dad was a custodian for the Boston school district._

The notes clearly something he had told someone that needed to be remembered to maintain the consistency of the disguise.

“Quite the story,” Liz remarked, recognizing the parallels between fiction and reality.

Red nodded. “Who would you like to be?”

Liz considered the question carefully.

“Diane’s college friend? Knew you before she passed away but lost track of you when you left Boston?”

Red thought for a moment. Relationship not too close. From Boston. Distance. Explains their age difference. Could be why they don’t know each other well. Good reason as to why she might be interested in getting to know Agnes.

“Perhaps you needed to be closer. Diane’s best friend? Maid of honor in our wedding? Katherine’s godmother?”

Liz thought. Yes – it did need to be a closer relationship otherwise why would she show up at the Markum’s. And stay. Yet distant enough that he wouldn’t have mentioned her to those in Seattle.

“Ok. She agreed.”

Red nodded.

“Good,” he said. Fidgeting.

“What?” Liz asked, sensing his discomfort.

“I’m not sure Emma will be very excited to meet you,” Red confessed.

Liz paused.

“Why would Emma…” she stopped mid-sentence with a glance toward Red who immediately turned towards the coat rack to grab his coat, the crimson color in his cheeks noticeable from a mile away.

Because Red had (or worse HAS) a relationship with Emma!

“Ah…” Liz stopped, trying to avoid the awkwardness.

“Daddy, are you coming? We are going to be late!” Agnes shouted abruptly, coming around the corner from the hallway.

“Perhaps I should wait here…”

“Nonsense…” Red countered as he headed towards the car. “Hurry or we’ll be late!” he finished with a wink.


	11. Chapter 11

Agnes’ violin lesson was a bit awkward. The first introduction of Liz went ok; although Agnes’ ears perked up at the mention of her mother. It intrigued her that this new lady knew her mother. The other little girls had mothers. Except Molly, of course, who lived alone with her dad like Agnes did. Agnes always wondered what it was like to have one.

As Red predicted, Emma (who turned out to be a stunning, 40ish woman with long auburn hair and a French accent) was less than excited to meet Liz. Although she did soften a bit at the mention of William’s dead wife.

Liz watched the woman skillfully work with both Red and Agnes; clearly a skilled teacher and performer. Emma very effectively ignored Liz’s presence; proceeding as if it were a regular Thursday morning less with Will and his daughter. No interloper present.

Apparently with this type of instruction, the parents learn to play as well so they can supervise and participate in the child’s practice regiment. Red clearly enjoyed the experience. Perhaps it was because Emma felt the need to touch him. A lot! Move his fingers to a new position on the fingerboard. Reset his bow hold. Adjust his grip on the instrument by wrapping her arms around him from behind. Sure – the rouse was that it was less to correct Red and more to show Agnes what to do. Either way, it was clear that there was clearly some relationship there.

_Jealous?_

_Stop it, Liz! Just STOP!_

Agnes was more skilled than Red which wasn’t a surprise. He eventually put his instrument down and moved to sit next to Elizabeth at the other side of the room while Agnes got her wish of playing the Bach double with Emma. Liz and Red watched like proud parents and applauded at the end of the informal performance.

“Thank you, Emma!” Agnes shouted as she rushed out of the house, violin case in hand, to the car.

“I’ll call you,” Red said, leaving a quick kiss on Emma’s cheek before escorting Liz out of the house.

Liz’s heart sank at the gesture.

_What did you expect? That they were just waiting for you to return from the dead to so you could be a family?_

Later that evening, Red came out of Agnes’ room after putting her to bed to find a glass of red wine sitting on the counter waiting for him. Liz was standing in front of the fireplace holding a matching glass.

“So…violin. Really?”

Red tensed. He really didn’t want to talk about all that was wrapped up in Agnes’ violin lessons.

“I wanted her to do dance but…” he hesitated.

“…you can’t take a ballet production with you if you have to leave in the middle of the night.”

Right. Reality. Their world was still incredibly fragile. Red had been exceedingly intentional in creating “normal” for their daughter. While from the outside their life seemed ordinary, the truth was that it was contrived. Carefully crafted with no small detail left unattended.

“When you… arrived…” Red finally managed. “…you said that only two people in world know you’re alive.”

Liz nodded with a lengthy sigh.

_So this is the topic of conversation for the evening._

“Mr. Kaplan and Aram.”

“Not Tom?”

“No.”

Red studied her. Silent. Waiting for an explanation.

“When I finally regained consciousness, Mr. Kaplan told me you were gone, with Agnes…

 

FLASHBACK

“Where’s my baby?” were her first words when Elizabeth’s eyes fluttered open nearly four months after they had closed.

“Their gone,” were Kate’s first words.

“Who is gone?” she whispered, hoarsely.

“Raymond. And…Agnes.”

Liz’s heart sank at the news.

“He knows.” "Kate said matter-of-factly.Liz looked at Kate.

“Knows what?”

“That Agnes is his.” 

Liz looked away. Tears in her eyes.

“And now you know,” she replied weakly, a tear now running down her cheek.

“I knew, Elizabeth. That’s why I made you the offer. She wouldn’t have been safe in Raymond’s world. You knew it, too. That’s why you accepted.”

Liz’s heart leaped into her throat.

“How long?”

“You’ve been unresponsive for nearly four months, Elizabeth.”

_Everyone knew. Before this elaborate, now failed, scheme was ever set in motion. Red. Mr. Kaplan. You’re a fool, Liz!_

“Where are they?”

“I don’t know.”

_Panic!_

“What do you mean you don’t know??!?!?!”

Kate relayed the story of the video. Of Tom’s anger. Of her search for Raymond and Agnes.

“I can’t find them. I honestly don’t know how he did it.”

Kate looked at Liz. Liz looked away.

“He hasn’t contacted ANYONE in his network. Not even his most trusted employees. Those who could have provided him with the resources he would have needed. Not one. They have vanished.”

Liz took a deep breath. Honestly, she wasn’t surprised. In the short time she had known him she had learned that the man could move mountains if he set his mind to it. Raymond Reddington could do anything.

“Tom?”

“Tom was very angry. He asked me to call him when you woke up. Believes he is owned an explanation. I haven’t seen or heard from him in three months.”

More reality. The man that was supposed to stand beside her. Said he loved her. Would work through anything with her. Gone.

Liz held her breath. As the implications sunk in. She wanted to die. Go back to sleep and never wake up. There was no chance at the “normal” life she had wanted; that she had risked everything for. Her child. Her “husband.” The man she…loved. Gone.

“Can I give you some advice, Elizabeth?”

_Your brilliant idea destroyed my life and you want to give me advice!!_

Liz only looked at her silently.

“I’m sorry, dearie. From the bottom of my heart. This mess you are in is all my fault. You wanted a “normal” life. I understand that. Now, with Tom and Agnes gone, the definition of “normal” may have changed but this can still be your fresh start.”

Liz listened intently.

“We were successful in at least part of this plan. Everyone, except Tom and me, think you are dead. Whoever was pursuing you, whoever was after Masha Rostova, believes you are gone. Your friends at the FBI. They believe you are gone. The task force has been disbanded.”

This thought made Liz sad. The task force had done good work together. Now it was over because of her.

“I don’t think you should rise from the dead, Elizabeth. All you were trying to get away from will return to haunt you. All except what you may want to find.”

Kate was right, of course. If she wanted any semblance of normalcy, she had to remain dead to the world. Somewhere, Raymond and Agnes had found some kind of safely. Could she find them? Be part of their version of “normal” whatever that may be?

_You have to try!_

“What about Tom?”

“I think all I have to do is call him and tell him you didn’t make it.”

It made her heart hurt that he had disposed of her so easily. That all the “love” he had professed to her had been a lie.

“Make the call,” she said flatly.

As predicted, Tom didn’t feel the need to see the body. Asked that Kate take care of it. Asked that Liz be buried in a “nice” place.

END FLASHBACK

 

Red listened intently. He had expected as much of Tom but he knew his behavior hurt Elizabeth and that angered him.

“When was the last time you spoke to Ka…Mr. Kaplan?”

Liz sighed at the memory.

“She helped me get well. It took several more weeks before I was strong enough to leave. She provided me with multiple new identities as well as several contacts in case I needed anything. Money. I haven’t seen or communicated with her since I left.”

That surprised Red.

“Why?”

“You’re not dead if you still communicate with your friends,” she replied, flatly. “I couldn’t risk someone becoming suspicious. Or a trail.”

“And Aram?”

Liz smiled at the mention of his name. Her good friend, Aram. He had obviously been surprised to see her when she showed up at his apartment after her funeral.

“I couldn’t find you on my own. I needed help. Aram’s kind of help.”

Red looked at Liz doubtfully. He respected Aram but he wanted no one, not even Aram to know where they were.

“We haven’t spoken since I showed up at his place over five years ago and asked for his help. He leaves me research - names, addresses, relevant information - in a drop box twice a year. The location changes. The location of the next drop contained, hidden in code, in the information from the current.”

Red was relieved. It appeared that she had been extremely meticulous. Probably the reason she had not yet been discovered by whomever was pursuing her all those years ago.

“Thank you.”

Liz nodded. As painful as it was to relive those moments of her life, she knew he needed to understand that they were safe.

The two sat quietly. The pops and crackles of the fire punctuating the silence.

“Red…about this morning…” Liz began hesitantly.

He knew what she was getting at. Emma. It wasn’t really any of her business. He didn’t want to talk about it.

“Elizabeth…”

“Red…I know we haven’t talked about… We don’t know what the future….I don’t want to push you… Look, I don’t want to…disrupt... anything you’re… doing…” Liz stammered, unsuccessfully trying to get a point across.

She was right. They hadn’t talked about anything. It had been over two weeks and she was still staying in their guest room as she had the day she walked up to him in the park. Would she continue to live with them? As what, exactly? Would she get her own place nearby? Would she want Agnes to visit her?  Stay with her?

Red’s chest tightened.

“Look, I know I burst into your world,” Liz interrupted his thoughts. “I know you never expected to see me again. I know this has been an outrageous turn of events. I don’t expect…”

Liz stopped.

_What don’t you expect, Liz? You don’t expect Red to announce to Agnes that her dead mother is back and wants to be called “mommy?” You don’t expect that Agnes will ask you to brush her hair or pick out her dress or help her with her reading or come to her recital? You don’t expect Red to end drop his relationship (whatever it is) simply because his dead accidental lover showed up on his doorstep?_

Silence.

“She thinks Agnes needs a mother,” he said, uncomfortably.

Ah…so there was a relationship. And Emma was ready for more.

Liz couldn’t disagree. She had grown up without a mother and certainly never wanted Agnes’ life to mirror hers. And, given what she witnessed earlier, Emma could be a good mother to Agnes.

“You don’t think Agnes needs a mother?”

Red thought for a moment. He enjoyed Emma’s company. She started joining him for dinner once or twice a week after Agnes had gone to bed about a year ago. He welcomed the adult companionship and conversation. She was worldly, intelligent, beautiful. They would share a bottle of wine with dinner and, after a while, they had started sharing a bed. She would leave in the morning before Agnes awoke; kissing him goodbye as he shaved. But then, a few weeks earlier, she began to talk about playing a particular role in their lives. Asking for more than he was able to give.

“Agnes has a mother.”


	12. Chapter 12

The trio arrived at the art museum shortly after at 10am just as they were opening. Liz had been surprised when Agnes requested the trip.

_Leave it to Red to teach his pre-school-aged daughter about art!_

As soon as they walked in the door, they were greeted warmly by the docent at the desk.

“Good morning, Will,” the 70+-year old woman said jovially. “Agnes.”

“Good morning, Karla,” Red (or rather Will) replied with equal enthusiasm as he kissed her cheek.

Karla eyed Liz with curiosity.

“Karla, this is Elizabeth. She is, rather was, a good friend of Diane’s. She visiting Agnes and me for a while.”

Karla’s suspicion turned to one of pity at the mention of William’s dead wife.

“Pleasure to meet you,” she said, extending a hand to Liz.

“Karla, can I have a map?” Agnes asked enthusiastically.

“Of course, you can, Aggie,” the docent replied fondly, turning her attention to the rambunctious little one.

“What would you like to see, Miss Elizabeth?” the perfect, six-year-old hostess asked.

“What is your favorite?” Elizabeth asked, genuinely interested in what her daughter would choose.

“Oh…now you’ve done it,” Red chimed in sarcastically.

“Done what?”

“The Jackson Pollack’s are my favorite!” Agnes replied enthusiastically.

“Aggie, we can go see the Rembrandt’s, the Monet’s, or even the Picasso’s, but Pollack? Really?” Red whined.

“Daddy…” the little girl scolded. “She asked to see MY favorite!”

“Not a fan?” Liz chided Red.

“She only likes them because she could have created them herself,” Red said sarcastically at Agnes who rolled her eyes in what promised to be the future 16-year-old Agnes fashion.

“Daddy…” she rebuked again.

“Onward…” he gestured melodramatically to Agnes who lead the way, her exasperated father in tow.

Liz could help but snicker at the exchange. When she imagined what “Daddy Red” would have been like, she never considered any of what she had witnessed. Sure – she believed he would have been kind and protective but the cooking, teaching, picnics, violin lessons, and now art museum visits surprised her.

_Tom wouldn’t have done any of this!_

In fact, she had it entirely backwards. The thought of her fateful decision made her feel sick to her stomach.

As they walked into the Pollock exhibit, Agnes enthusiastically took her mother’s hand and raced over to her favorite painting; astutely regurgitating the docent monologue which she had heard multiple times.

Red found a bench in the center of the room and watched the exchange still unable to believe Elizabeth was here. With them. Alive!

_Agnes has a mother._

Elizabeth, or rather her memory, is what had kept Red from moving further in his relationship with Emma.  Yes - he enjoyed the companionship of a woman and all it entailed.  And, sure, Agnes needed a woman in her life. A positive role model. Someone to talk about “girl things” with.  But when Emma started the subtle conversations, intimating that she was ready for the role, Red froze. "Replacing" Elizabeth was something he simply couldn’t do.

He watched the two of them. Agnes unreservedly showing Elizabeth all she learned. Elizabeth listening intently, hanging on every word. The pair made his heart both smile and hurt. She should have been there. The whole time. With Agnes. Emma wasn’t wrong. Agnes needed a mother.  She needed HER mother!

_How is this going to end?_

“Daddy, it’s time for my class.”

“Lead the way.”

Agnes practically ran, her parents in tow, to the gallery of the museum where the preschool class met. Knowing she needed to be with other children, Red had enrolled her in the homeschool preschool class. She loved it! Despite his need to keep them relatively confined and hidden, Agnes craved the interaction with other people. She was very ready to go to school; to be part of a classroom with other children. It was Red who couldn’t seem like take the leap. They hadn’t been separated a single day since he had walked out of the makeshift nursey with her in his arms nearly six years earlier. Truth be told, he was afraid. Afraid of leaving her. Afraid of letting her out of his sight. Afraid of not being there if she needed him. Afraid their past might follow them at some unexpected moment in the future. Afraid of returning to some awful catastrophe that would take her from him.

Agnes didn’t even say goodbye when they entered the large gallery populated with 20+ preschool children and the chaotic comings and goings of parents dropping off their kids for an hour of peace and quiet. She didn’t need to. Her dad always stayed and sat in the corner through the class. No one else’s dad did which she thought was strange.

“Over here,” Red beckoned to Liz, moving towards a bench at the far end of the large agallery. From here he could observe Agnes as she engaged with the other children without interfering.

Liz followed. Taking the seat next to him on the bench.

The two sat in silence, watching Agnes hold court with her classmates. She certainly as her father’s daughter!

“I don’t understand how you did it, Red.” Liz broke the silence.

“Did what?”

“Disappeared. Vanished. Created THIS!”

Red shrugged. He was actually a little surprised himself that he had been able to pull the whole thing off.

Silence.

He didn’t particularly want to talk about it.

“Mr. Kaplan said you initiated “the protocol,” Liz pressed.

“What is that? What protocol?”

Red thought for a moment. Was there really any reason to keep things from her anymore?

_Some of it she never needs to know!_

_Right! SOME of it!_

He argued with himself.

“Red.”

Red looked at her and sighed.

“Elizabeth, there were many protocols,” he began, watching as she raised an eyebrow at his statement.

“When I left…with Agnes…I asked Marvin.... You remember Marvin…”

Liz nodded. How could she forget Marvin!?! She met Marvin in the days before the boarded the ship and their lives changed forever.

“…I asked Marvin to dismantle Raymond Reddington’s empire.”

Liz looked at Red in disbelieve. Dismantle? How could he be safe without his countless contacts throughout the world? How could he disappear with all of those people who had helped him offer the same opportunity to others?

“The web was…complex…intertwined,” he continued softly.

“It had to be taken apart piece by piece in a very specific order so as not to create a chaos that would cause it to collapse in on itself; endanger not only me and Agnes but an infinite number of innocent people in the process.

“Why would you do that? Dismantle it? I would have thought it was what would have allowed you to create all of this.”

Red shrugged.

“Crime only follows you if you are committing it.  Or aiding and abetting it.”

Liz thought for a moment. It sounded logical but then why did he continue to amass such an empire over the years? Why didn’t he stop years ago?

“Really?”

“There is more to it than that, of course. Those out for revenge for past…indiscretions…are still out there. Even that decreases with time, I suppose.”

“Ok…so you dismantle your empire. But, I looked for you for six years. It not like you could just buy a house in the Seattle suburbs and call it good.”

Red chuckled.

“God, no!”

Silence.

“So. How did you do it?”

Silence.

_Just tell her!_

“Elizabeth, when you were Agnes’ age, I began building you an escape route.”

Liz was perplexed.

“Me?”

Red nodded and exhaled deeply.

“My crystal ball was quite foggy back then but I sensed that there might be a day you would want out. When you would reject all that was required of being Masha Rostova.”

Liz cringed at the sound of the name. She knew that, deep down, she was born Masha Rostova. But she didn’t feel like anything other than Elizabeth, the small town kid from Nebraska.

“So, when you were a child, I began building not one, but two, empires. One to protect Masha. And one to allow her, when she was ready, to be anything she wanted.”

Liz was stunned. All this time. Since she was a small child, he had been protecting her? Preparing for her future?

The look in her eyes implored him to go on.

“You knew Raymond Reddington’s vast criminal empire well. As did others.  Including countless government agencies. Which is why, in order to disappear with Agnes, it needed to end.”

Liz again looked perplexed.

“But there was second empire. An informal one. One no one, and I mean NO ONE, knew about. A string of 100s of average, ordinary people.”

Liz thought for a moment then continued to push, sensing she was closer to a truth than she had been in much of their relationship.

“Ordinary people who did what?”

Red looked and then turned away, focusing on Agnes in the distance with her friend, before going on.

“Throughout my travels to the four corners of globe, I would meet people. Just people. Not connected with anyone or anything. The blue-collar worker having to tell his brilliant daughter that he couldn’t afford to send her to Oxford. The housewife with no medical insurance who was just diagnosed with cancer. The airline pilot whose father needed nursing home care but whose life savings had been spent educating his son. The young woman, pregnant by a married man, who didn’t want to give up her baby but couldn’t afford to take care of it.”

Red’s eyes moistened as he thought of each of them.

Liz watched how the stories affected him. But she didn’t understand the connection.

“So you what?”

“I took care of their problem. Paid for the blue-collar worker’s daughter to attend Oxford; the housewife’s medical bills; the pilot’s father’s nursing home care; the young woman’s child’s expenses until they graduated from college and so on. Hundreds of times over.”

“Why?” Liz asked, genuinely confused.

“In exchange for one service each. To be collected at an undetermined time in the future. By a woman named Elizabeth. No questions asked.”

Collected by a woman named Elizabeth.

Liz was shocked at the mention of her name.

“What ‘service,’ exactly?”

“It was different for each of them. For pilot, it was one safe transport; conveniently leaving the passenger off the manifest. For the housewife, it was keeping a box that I gave her, without opening it, in the back of the closet until such a time as the woman would appear and ask for it. For the Oxford graduate’s father, it was maintaining a bank account active with small deposits and withdrawals. For the young (not so young any more I suppose) woman who needed funding for her child, it was a safe haven for a future guest for as long as she needed to stay.”

“What was in the box?”

Red was surprised by her question. He didn’t know why. Just surprised.

“Money. Cash. A quarter of million dollars.”

Liz was speechless. They sat in silence as the revelations sunk in.

“How many people?”

“Hundreds. Across the globe.”

Liz looked at Red in awe. 

“Twenty-five years. A lifetime of small talk turning into life-changing kindnesses at exactly the right time,” Red said, a hint of melancholy in his voice.

“It was for me?”

Red nodded.

_He spent his entire life amassing not one but two empires for...me. To make me not only safe, but happy._

“They were surprised to see me, particularly with an infant, calling in the chip instead of the woman I told them would come.”

Liz was silent as the gravity sunk in.

“How many did you use?”

Red shook his head.

“A fraction. I meant it when I said you could have the normal life you wanted, Elizabeth. I was prepared to give it to you.”

_Sort of. I couldn’t bear the thought of losing you._

A lump formed in his thought.

“I was just unwilling to see how desperate you were for it.”

Liz’s heart sank. She put her head in her hands and sighed deeply.

“So that was the protocol?”

“No.” Red replied, firmly

Liz looked him curiously.

“There was no…protocol… for what transpired, Elizabeth. There were protocols for my death. Protocols should I need to depart for a time. Protocols to hide you in times of immediate danger. But…nothing...nothing was prepared for your death.”

He paused to regain his clearly deteriorating composure.

“I hadn’t even considered it,” he finished painfully.

Liz looked at Red apologetically.

“And certainly not...” he continued.

“I hadn’t prepared for a child…” his voice trailed off with regret.

_Certainly not for a child we shared!_

“So…when you were… gone…I used the vast network I had built for you. I used it to keep your...our... daughter safe.”


	13. Chapter 13

Liz awoke to an unusual silence. The space the voices of a child and her father traditionally occupied has been replace by quiet. An unnerving quiet.

_He wouldn’t…_

_He might!_

Her inner monologue was alarming.

_“She’s you.”_

_“Agnes has a mother”_

_“To be collected at an undetermined time in the future. By a woman named Elizabeth.”_

All of these things told her…well…she wasn’t quite ready to decide what they meant. But she was quite confident they meant he wouldn’t take Agnes and run from her.

_Right?_

The unpredictability of the past six years getting the best of her, Liz tossed on the jeans and sweater and hurried to the kitchen.

No sign of either of them. The house was quiet. But, nothing was out of place. Everything was as they had left it the night before. Nothing missing.

Liz’s heart beat faster.

_Where are they?!?!_

Then she saw it. The piece of paper sitting innocently on the counter under the coffee cup that had become “hers” during their short time together.

A note. Written in Agnes’ hand.

_We went to wash the car and get donuts._

_We will bring you one._

_We will be back by 9am._

_Agnes and William_

  
Liz sighed with relief and then chuckled.

_Wash the car? And get donuts? Really? Ok!  William._

She wasn’t sure she could ever get use to calling him “William.”

Moments later she heard the door open, Agnes hopping in caring a large box of donuts.

“Oh! Hi!”

“Good morning, Agnes. Is the car clean?”

“Yes. Daddy vacuumed while I cleaned off the seats and then we drove through the big washer thing,” she recited happily.

“We didn’t know what kind of donut to get you so we just got a lot of different kinds.”

“That’s very thoughtful of you.”

“It was daddy’s idea,” Agnes said as her father walked in the door from the garage.

“What was my idea?”

“Lots of donuts!

“Ha! Right! The world is a happier place with lots of donuts.”

Liz continued to be mesmerized by these two. The happiness and joy about them contagious.

“Good morning,” Red directed at Liz.

“Thanks for the note.”

Red acknowledged with a small nod. He knew how she would have felt without one.

Agnes grabbed a plate for each of them, helped Liz pick out a donut and carried each plate to the table.

“I didn’t know you liked donuts, Agnes.”

“I love donuts. I like the ones with the jelly in the middle,” she said through her first bite of the cherry-filled jelly donut.

Liz watched Red as he observed the young lady move through what was clearly another routine. She had truly never seen a man so much in love with his child. And that was the right word - “in love.” Red was smitten, enchanted, captivated by her at every turn.

_And you were prepared to take her from him!_

Liz pushed the thought from her mind. That was the past. It was time to start thinking about the future.

Later that afternoon, Red stood at the counter chopping ingredients for their evening dinner. This was yet another thing Liz just couldn’t seem to get use to – Red in the kitchen. At the same time, he looked comfortable. Content. Happy. Natural.

Liz sat on the sofa with Agnes working through her reading assignment for the day.

“Miss Elizabeth,” Agnes interrupted hesitantly.

“Yes.”

“You told Miss Emma and Nancy at the museum that you knew my mom.”

The question caused Red to stop chopping and immediately look at Liz who was already looking at him.

_Now what?!?!_

This was new. The story worked with those outside of their household but it hadn’t really occurred to either of them that Agnes would be paying such close attention to the details in the adult conversations. Quite foolish of both of them really, particularly Red who was well aware of his daughter’s many gifts.

Red tilted his head and shrugged.

Liz looked back at Agnes and smiled.

“Yes. I did know your mom. What has your dad told you about her, Agnes?” Liz asked, not wanting to contradict any of the previously told tales.

Agnes thought for a moment. He didn’t talk about her a lot. And when he did, it made him sad.

“I like meeting new people. He said she like learning about people, too,” she started.

“He says I’m beautiful like her.”

Liz nodded, listening intently.

“Sometimes he looks at me and says ‘You’re just like your mother.’”

Liz laughed out loud and looked at Red who caught her eye momentarily and shook his head with a chuckle.

“Does he say it when he’s happy or upset?”

Red looked at her with a “Really?!?!  Did you just ask that question?!?” look.

Agnes thought intensely for a moment.

“Both,” she answered, confidently.

Liz laughed again.

“Oh…” Agnes remembered.

“He said she was very excited about me. He said that I was her wish.”

_The theater._

Tears formed in her eyes as Liz looked at Red. Their eyes met briefly before he offered a weak smile and returned to chopping.

“And he said he loved her very much.”

Red clumsily drop the knife on the counter with a loud clang at Agnes’ last words. Both Liz and Agnes looked up at the commotion to find Red intently concentrating on chopping vegetables.

Red shook his head. Children were so damn honest.

Agnes motioned for Liz to come closer and whispered, in her best child-like whisper.

“I think he misses her a lot.”


	14. Chapter 14

Friday night - “movie night” - was always blast. Agnes picked the movie. For the past six weeks in a row they had watched “Frozen.” Tonight was no different.

Agnes had started on the sofa next to Liz, sharing her with popcorn with the newcomer who had become a fixture in the Markum household. But as soon as she got tired, the child always gravitated back to her constant. Her father. He had reached out to pick her up and put her in his lap as soon as she approached without her having to make the request. She snuggled in tightly to his side. Head on his chest. His free hand draping the blanket over her to avoid a chill.

Liz again watch in awe at the ease with which these two maneuvered around each other.

_He needs her as much as she needs him._

It wasn’t long before they were both sound asleep in the chair.

“Movie night” appeared to be the one exception to the usual bedtime it the Markum household. And it was endearing.

Liz couldn’t help but stare at these two. Her daughter. The child’s father. She hadn’t ever dreamed their world would be like this. Peaceful. Loving. Fun.

Red stirred under the gaze; his eyes fluttered open.

Liz offered a small smile.

“What are you looking at?” he asked, sleepily.

“You.”

The replied surprised him. He had expected her to say “Agnes” and talk again about how wonderful their daughter was.

“What do you mean?” he asked, innocently.

_Silence._

“Elizabeth,” Red prompted.

_Silence._

“You’re…so…different.”

Red looked her in the eye. Deeply. Yes – he was different.

“But…somehow…the same…”

Red was silent. No…he was not really the same man she knew. He never really was but her death and Agnes’ birth had changed everything.

“When was the last time…” her voice trailed off as she reconsidered the question.

Red looked down at Agnes to ensure she as still asleep before finishing her sentence.

“…I killed someone?” he finished, matter-of-factly.

She still thought of him as a monster. That was clear. Perhaps he was. A monster in disguise.

Liz was immediately ashamed at the line of questioning. But she would be kidding herself if she didn’t wonder just how deep the change was.

“2,104 days.”

_He is counting?!?!?_

Liz couldn’t seem to wrap her head around the implication of his response. It was almost like an addict in recovery; counting the days since their last drink; last push; last hit.

Then she did the math.

_He hasn’t killed anyone since I’ve been gone! Since we’ve been apart. Since Agnes was born._

Liz sighed audibly at the realization.

_I’m the reason he killed???_

“That isn’t what I meant,” she backtracked.

Red held her gaze as if challenging her to say what she actually meant.

_It may be hard for you to imagine but you but I once had a normal life. Bills to pay. Play dates. Family. Some friends. People to care about. Lost all that._

Liz remembered their conversation in exquisite detail yet it seemed like eons ago. Perhaps it was. One of the moments he had let her in, a little, during one of the countless times their lives were in jeopardy. Come to the think of it, the only time he let her in - gave her a glimpse of his real self - was when their lives were at stake.

“You’ve been a father before.”

Red inhaled deeply then held his breath as he remembered his beloved wife and oldest daughter.

_Silence._

“Red?”

_Silence._

“Yes,” he finally acknowledged.

“You’re so…comfortable.”

Liz considered it further. Looking back, he never seemed “comfortable” in his role as the “Concierge of Crime.” Skilled - yes. Commanding - absolutely! A good actor perhaps but genuinely comfortable in that skin? No. Authentic? No.

“This is the real you, isn’t it?” she asked hesitantly.

Red sat silently yet held her gaze.

“This kind, gentle father. The man that genuinely hates Jackson Pollock and loves Monet. The man who is happy watching the same movie repeatedly because his six-year-old daughter loves it. The man who would rather make lasagna with his family than eat at the finest restaurant in the world. The man who takes up the violin so he can help his child be successful.  The man who washes the car and buys lots of donuts.”

A lump formed in Red’s throat.

_YES!_

He wanted to tell her. To shout it at her. But he remained silent.

“What happened to them? To your family?”

Red shook his head “no” and looked away. She seemed to want to hammer holes in each of the walls he had so carefully built but he wasn’t willing to allow her to breach this one. Simply unwilling to share this part of himself.

“Your file said you abandoned them but…”

Red looked at her defensively.

“…after everything I’ve seen with you and Agnes. I don’t believe it.”

Red released the breath he was holding but remained silent.

“What happened?”

Red shook his head ‘no’ as he closed his eyes and shook his head.

“Please?”

Red' eyes begged her to stop.

Liz nodded. It was ok. This was a safe space.

Finally, Red relented. Quietly he spoke.

“I don’t know. I don’t know what happened to them.”

Liz was startled.

_How could he not know?_

She remained silent. Her silence imploring him to continue.

“I came home. It was Christmas Eve. They were…gone…” his voice trailed off as he looked into the fire.

“Gone?”

“There was…blood. Everywhere…” he closed his eyes tight, trying not to relive the memories, his failure, as it vividly replayed in his mind.

“But there were no bodies.”

Liz’s heart broke as he recounted the story.

“I looked for them. But…there was too much blood. No one could have…”

Red caught his breath and released it again.

“…survived that.”

Liz’s heart sank as she watched Red’s pain come to the surface. Their daughter still asleep with her head on his chest.

_Everything in the FBI file on Raymond Reddington was wrong! Purposely, or carelessly - wrong._

“That’s why you were so affected by my fantasy.”

Red looked at her quizically.

“Because you have the same fantasy...”


	15. Chapter 15

Even after only a few short weeks, Saturday morning had become a routine. Liz reading by the window. Red drinking coffee while perusing the morning New York Times at the kitchen island waiting for Agnes to wake up. It wasn’t long before the little girl with her mother’s long dark hair and her father’s eyes bounded into the kitchen her usual “full of life” self.

“Are we going to Emma’s concert tonight?” she asked enthusiastically.

“I was planning on it,” Red replied without looking up from the paper.

_What concert?_

This was news to Liz.

“Is Miss Elizabeth going with us?”

_Emma’s concert. Definitely NO!_

“I got us three tickets,” Red replied from behind his newspaper.

Liz was surprised. After learning about Emma, she had told him that she didn’t want to get in the way. She wasn’t joining them for the concert. She would not get “in the way?!?”

“Red, that is a kind invitation. But, really, you and Agnes go. I don’t have anything appropriate to wear anyway,” Liz protested.

Red put down his newspaper; clearly disappointed with her response.

“We have stores here. You could buy something “appropriate,” he countered.

“Oh! Miss Elizabeth! We could go shopping!” Agnes interjected eagerly.

Liz smiled at the duel responses. She was encouraged that they both seemed to want her to go along.

“Ha! Well…OK. Agnes…would you like to go shopping with me to help me pick out a dress?”

Agnes lit up like a Christmas tree! Other girls talked about going shopping with their mothers. Agnes never really minded not having a mother. Except in cases like this. Agnes never had a “girls day.”

“Yes! It can be just us girls.”

Liz laughed again. Her heart joyous! Shopping with her daughter! Perfect!

“Ok – go get ready and we’ll go.”

Agnes didn’t let her finish her sentence before running down the hall to her bedroom to get dressed.

“So…I guess I’m going along and we are going shopping,” Liz chuckled, turning back to Red to find his demeanor stoic.

Red looked her deeply in the eyes.

“Red?”

_Silence._

Liz was perplexed by his behavior and the look in his eyes. Was it anger? Fear? She couldn’t discern.

“Red…” she questioned again.

“You’ll come back?”

Liz was taken aback by the response.

“Of course!” she said, matter-of-factly.

“Promise?” he probed softly, fear clearly visible on his face.

Agnes came bounding back in the room, interrupting the serious conversation.

“Ready?”

“Yes. Lizzie said enthusiastically before she could answer Red’s very poignant inquiry.

“Meet you in the car,” Liz shouted at Agnes as she ducked into her room to grab her coat.

“Agnes. Come here,” Red requested softly, down on one knee to meet her at eye level.

“You remember the phone number?” he whispered.

“Daddy…” Agnes whined, not wanting to be bothered by such silly details.

“Agnes,” Red said more firmly.

“734-832-9817”

“Thank you.”

“Can I go now?”

“I love you.”

“I love you too, Daddy,” the child finished as she bolted out the door.

“Come on, Miss Elizabeth,” she shouted as the door slammed behind her.

Liz returned to find Red sitting in one of the dining room chairs; his face in his hands.

Liz laid her coat on the counter and moved towards him. He did not move. Even when she was standing directly in front of him, could feel his warmth, he didn’t move.

After a moment, she understood. Understood why he asked if she would come back.

_Agnes._

It wasn’t her he was concerned about coming back. It was Agnes.

Come to think of it, Red hadn’t left Agnes for a moment since Liz arrived. Took her to the party at the park but never let her out of his sight. Took her to her violin lesson and took up the instrument himself to be close. Took her to the museum and watched from afar.

_Has he ever left her?_

It would never have occurred to Liz to leave with Agnes and never return.

_Why would he think I would do THAT!??!?_

But then…

_Wasn’t that exactly what you intended to do all those years ago?_

Her once joyous heart hurt for him.

“Red?” she questioned.

_Silence._

Liz held her breath as she gently she laid her hands on the top of his head.

Her touch brought him out of his trance. As he raised his head to look at her, her hands never left his skin. Sliding from the back of his head to the side of his face.

Her touch confused him. He was so uncomfortable with the thought of Agnes being away from him yet she hadn’t touched him this way since...

_The ship._

In fact, the only two times he had felt her hands on his face were their night on the ship and that awful afternoon in the back of the makeshift ambulance as her warmth turned cold.

The dichotomy of the emotions was paralyzing. Ecstasy, terror, grief - so intimately intertwined.

“Are you alright?”

_NO!_

Every fiber of Red’s being screamed silently as he sat perfectly still trying to reconcile the warmth of her hands on his face and the dreadful feeling in his chest.

“You’re her mother. I need to learn to be alright,” he replied finally, retuning his gaze to the floor.

Liz remembered the story he had told her about his family from the night before. The last time this man left his child, he had returned home to a pool of blood.

Her heart ached for him.

An eternity seemed to pass.

“Not today,” she said softly as she offered her hands to him.

He did not respond.

“Red,” she said, placing one hand upon his cheek to redirect his gaze.

“Come with us.”

_Childish._

_Weak._

_Pathetic._

He was better than that. 

“Please.”

Red released the breath he was holding.

_When someone does something nice for you, you’re supposed to say “thank you.”_

He need to take her up on her offer. To say “thank you” for understanding but he couldn’t manage it. Not through the lump in his throat. So, instead, he placed his hand over hers that was still against his cheek and placed a tender kiss in the palm as he had that night on the ship.

Liz was taken aback by the gesture, remembering the first time she had been its recipient. Her heart skipped a beat and her stomach fluttered.

But she understood.

_This is Red’s version of “Thank You.”_


	16. Chapter 16

Liz donned the new dress she had purchased that afternoon and looked at herself in the mirror. For the first time in six years, she felt…beautiful. The blue dress fit her like a glove. Apparently blue was Agnes’ favorite color because each dress she picked out was some shade of blue.

Liz smiled at the memory of the shopping trip. Red sitting just far enough away to give them their “girl time” but close enough for his own comfort. Reading the New York Times, or at least pretending to, each time she glanced in his direction.

Liz ran the brush through her hair one final time, glanced at the mirror, and adjusted her earrings. She smiled at her reflection, excited about what the night might bring, and marched into the kitchen.

“Which tie?” Red asked Agnes, holding a red one and a blue one.

“The blue one!” Agnes giggled.

_Of course, the blue one. It was always the blue one._

“Do I get to help?”

“Of course! I couldn’t do it without you,” Red said as he hoisted her onto the counter and wrapped the tie around his neck.

Liz watched as Agnes began tying her father’s tie with her tiny hands.

“Over or under?”

“This one is under, remember,” he replied with a gentle smile, holding very still as she worked.

“Oh…right!”

Liz shook her head with a disbelieving smile.

_Really?_

“Oh…I forgot what was next?”

“You have to go around and then through, remember.”

“Yes!”

It wasn’t long before Agnes had completed the perfect knot, cinched it up tight, and pulled down her father’s collar.

“Now I’m perfect, right?”

“Yes!” the little girl giggled.

“Thank you!” he said as he kissed her cheek and hoisted her off the counter.

“Grab your coat, please,” he finished before turning to look at his reflection in the stainless-steel refrigerator.

Liz couldn’t help but laugh as Agnes ran past her to her room.

“You seriously taught her to tie a Windsor knot?” she chided.

“She asked!” he said, feigning defense, still finishing the corrective measures on his tie in the reflection.

“It will be perfect for when she starts dating.”

“She is NOT dating. At least not until I’m dead. We’ve discussed that. Young men only want one thing…” he said, quite seriously, buttoning up his vest as he finally turned towards Liz.

He stopped abruptly when he saw her. She was always beautiful, in whatever she wore, but tonight was something entirely different. He couldn’t help himself but admire the woman in front of him.

Liz was pleased with his reaction. And with herself.

“Well? What do you think?”

Red offered a confident smile.

“The woman certainly does make the dress.”

Liz felt her stomach somersault.

“You look beautiful, Lizzie,” he whispered.

“So…what is it that older men want?” she chided.

Red couldn’t help but smile. He had missed their banter. Missed how she challenged him.

“One thing…” Red agreed, offering her a sly smile as he tilted his head

Liz was ready to jump in with an “I knew it!” quip when Red continued.

“…it’s just a different thing,” he finished, seriously, holding her gaze.

“I’m ready,” Agnes interrupted.

“Me, too,” Red said eagerly, breaking the trace that held he and Liz, as he shrugged on his suit coat.

“Don’t forget your hat,” Agnes interjected, snatching the long-forgotten fedora off the counter.

Red bent down so she could put it on his head. As he stood, adjusting the prop, almost caressing it, Liz witnessed the reappearance of Raymond Reddington.

She held her breath. Couldn’t help but stare. It felt like ages. Finally! The man she remembered from all those years ago had retuned.

Red cocked his head; a curious look on his face.

“I missed you,” she whispered.

He smiled shyly.

“Shall we?”

He offered his arm to Elizabeth and his hand to Agnes and lead them out the door.


	17. Chapter 17

They walked into the concert hall. Elizabeth holding tightly to Red’s arm and Red holding tightly to Agnes’ hand.

The little girl looked up at her father and smiled. He looked happy and that made her happy.

They made their way to the stage door and, much to Liz’s surprise, were escorted in. Apparently, Emma has some pull!

Agnes led the way, winding through the musicians, instruments, and cases to the spot Emma usually inhabited.

“Hello Agnes!” Emma greeted, enthusiastically.

“I’m so glad you’re both here,” she continued, offering an “innocent” embrace to Red.

“I’ve missed you,” she whispered in his ear so Agnes couldn’t hear. But Liz heard.

Red stiffened and pulled away, revealing Elizabeth.

Emma’s face hardened as she saw Elizabeth, looking stunning in her blue dress, behind Red.

“Elizabeth. You’re still here. Welcome,” she said. Displeasure ever so slightly audible in her voice.

“Yes! It has been wonderful getting…reacquainted…with William and Agnes,” Liz replied cryptically.

Red was surprised by Liz’s reaction and a little irritated (or perhaps a little flattered – he couldn’t decide which) with what she implied. So much for professing she didn’t want to interfere.

“Daddy, we should find out seats.”

_Agnes to the rescue. Well, done my dear._

“Excellent idea,” Red agreed.

“Good luck tonight, Emma” he finished with a polite kiss on the cheek.

“I’m sorry,” he whispered before pulling away. “Soon…”

There was so much they needed to talk about but now was clearly not the time or the place. He hoped she understood.

They found their seats in the arm of the first balcony. Agnes took the middle but moments later requested to sit on her father’s lap which he willingly obliged. They pointed and talked and laughed. Waved at Emma who, as discreetly as possible, waved back with a not-so-subtle look to see where Liz was seated.

“Miss Elizabeth,” Agnes gestured, beckoning Liz closer.

Liz felt as though she was interrupting this clearly defined ritual but moved to the seat next to Red to talk with Agnes.

“Do you like Brahms?” Agnes asked innocently.

Liz blushed. She didn’t really know anything about classical music. Her six-year-old certainly had her bested in this category.

“Agnes, I don’t really know any Brahms,” Liz confessed.

“I love Brahms. I can play his Waltz on my violin,” she said proudly.

“I would love to hear it some time.”

“Tonight someone is playing the piano,” she went on astutely.

“Have you played this piece for me, Daddy?”

“No, Agnes. I most certainly have not.”

His response caught her off guard.

“You play?” Liz inquired. She has seen the piano sitting silently in the corner of the living room. But she had yet to hear anyone play it.

“Yes,” Agnes answered for him, finding it silly that Liz didn’t know.

“Not well,” Red replied.

How did she not know he played? If he enjoyed it enough to have the instrument in his home, it must be something more significant than she realized.

“Would you play for me sometime?”

“No.”

Liz was taken aback by his response. The “Really? You won’t play for me?” written on her face nearly prompted a response that was silenced by the dimming lights in the concert hall.

As Liz moved to return to her chair, she felt Red’s hand on her wrist.

He leaned in and whispered in her ear. The warmth of his breath tickling the small hairs on her neck causing her to inch closer.

“Don’t. Agnes will be asleep shortly. Sit next to me. Please?”

Liz’s stomach fluttered as it had earlier in the evening as she returned to the seat next to Red.

The concert began. Agnes sat motionless on her father’s lap; his arms wrapped around her. She drew pictures on the top of his hands and tapped in rhythm on them when the music struck her. Every so often she would yawn; relaxing into his warmth. Liz found herself doing the same; enjoying the feeling of sitting so close to him. Close enough to feel the motion of his breath. The beat of his heart. The heat of his body.

Had they ever sat this close to each other for such a prolonged period? Ever?

Liz didn’t think so.

Agnes leaned in to whisper something in her father’s ear. He responded, whispering so softly that Liz couldn’t hear the exchange but found it endearing none-the-less.

She found herself wishing she was Agnes. Held tightly in Red’s arms. Whispering. Sharing secrets. Head against his shoulder. Tracing patterns on his hands as he held her.

_Pull it together, Liz! You can’t be jealous of a CHILD!!  Sheesh!_

She found herself visibly rolling her eyes at the thought. Jealously seemed to be the emotion of the evening.

Sure enough, ½ way through the second movement of the Brahms second Piano Concerto, Agnes fell asleep, still cradled in the protective arms of her father.

As the solo cello began the somber third movement, Liz felt Red sigh.

She smiled at him. She cherished this new, or rather original, Raymond Reddington.

_Relaxed. Content. Happy._

He leaned in close to her, as he had done with Agnes, so as not to disturb the other concert goers.

“This is the most exquisite movement in all of Brahms. Close your eyes. You’ll see what I mean.”

She did as he asked.

And he was right.

In closing her eyes, each of her senses became more heightened. Liz was captivated. She listened differently this way. The colors of the orchestra, the passion with which they played, infinitely more perceptible to her.

Red watched as Liz closed her eyes; entranced by her response to the music.  As the notes enveloped them, he continued to observe her response; holding his breath so as not to disturb her, interrupt her meditation. He watched her facial expression divulge her inner most emotions. He had experienced the work countless times before. It was part of him. But to experience it through her was intoxicating.

As the orchestra took on the solo cello’s original melody, Liz felt a warmth cover her hands.

Red.

He simply couldn’t resist her any longer. She was so close to him. A nearness he never expected to experience again. He had to feel her.

She responded to his touch without opening her eyes. With a deep breath, she simply closed her fingers around his and allowed herself to melt into both the music and the man sitting next to her.

It felt as though they were alone despite their location in the crowded concert hall. As the solo cello voice returned with its exquisite melody, it took every fiber of Red’s being not to lean in and gently kiss her.

Instead, he closed his eyes and revealed in the sensation of her hand in his and their daughter’s head resting gently on his shoulder.


	18. Chapter 18

When they arrived home after the concert, Red had put Agnes to bed; removed his tie, unbuttoned his vest; and poured himself a scotch. Elizabeth had retreated immediately to her room. Probably because he had, once again, crossed the proverbial line. Asking her to sit next to him at the concert. Taking her hand. Each pushing the boundary that she had carefully established all those years ago. To him, her retreat was a vigilant redrawing the line.

Red stood in front of the fire; glass of scotch in hand. Sipping casually. Enjoying the feel of the glass in his hand and the burning sensation as the amber liquid overtook the back of his throat. 

_She was jealous!_

_She’s done that before._

_What do I tell Emma?_

_She cares about you._

_You care about her, too._

_But…Elizabeth… ._

_Elizabeth made her choice long ago. Move on, Reddington._

Red was so lost in his own thoughts he hadn’t heard her come into the room.

Liz was still wearing the blue dress that had caught, and held, his attention that evening. She had, however, shed her shoes.

Over the past weeks, she had come to know a very different Raymond Reddington. One who was jovial, gentle without exception, and even vulnerable.

She had loved him before. Her love had been hesitant. Quiet. Concealed. But she had loved him none-the-less. Now, each new trait she discovered sent her deeper into a realm from which she would never be able to return.

_“She’s you.”_

_“He said he loved her very much.”_

_“Agnes has a mother.”_

_“Sit next to me.”_

_Why are you fighting this, Liz? Stop!_

Liz approached him from behind - wrapping her arms around his waist and pulling him close to her. Placing a tender kiss on his shoulder.

“Thank you.”

Red stiffened at her touch but didn’t move. A part of him reveling in the closeness.

They stood, Liz’s body pressed against his from behind, for what seemed like an eternity before he broke her embrace.

Liz refused to concede. He had been running from her since she returned. She had felt his eyes on her while she listened to the concert. Felt his desire. Felt his love for her radiating from each fiber of his being. It was time he learned how she felt.

She took a small step towards him. When he didn’t move, she took another. She could sense he was holding his breath; unnerved by her proximity as he had been that night on the ship.

Red stood quietly in front her. Unable to break her gaze. Unsure of what to do next but desperately wanting to act on the overwhelming urge that had overcome him in the concert hall earlier that even.

_Come on, Liz. You started all this. Now finish it!_

Gathering her courage, she placed her hands gently on his chest and felt his breathing stop. She closed her eyes, leaned forward, and placed a tender kiss on his lips. At first, he didn’t respond but, a moment later, she felt his hands move to the side of her face and through her hair as he passionately returned her kiss.

And then, it was over.

He stepped away, shaking his head.

“You don’t owe me that, Elizabeth.”

Liz was stunned by his response.

“Owe you?!?!? Red – that wasn’t… payment…”

“There is no prerequisite, Elizabeth,” he interrupted matter-of-factly. “You are Agnes’ mother. You can, and will, have relationship with her.”

Liz was, in some way, relieved by his words. Until he continued.

“It doesn’t require you to have one with me.”

“Red, this has nothing to do with Agnes.”

“Elizabeth, you were quite clear in your choices. Including the final one.”

Liz looked at him confused.

“You chose Tom. Over and over again. When you accepted Mr. Kaplan’s offer, you, again, chose Tom. But this time with…irrevocable finality. You intended to NEVER see me again. It’s what you wanted. It’s what you chose.”

The pain was audible in his voice and it made her heart ache.

He was right.

She had done all of those things but not for the reasons he thought.

“It wasn’t like that…” she protested, distressed by the anger in his voice, in his eyes.

“You intended to take OUR child and NEVER see me again,” he shouted.

Liz stopped.

Yes - that would have been the consequence, intended or unintended, of her decision. She hadn’t ever really considered what it looked like from his perspective. She was simply a mother trying to protect her child.

Red hadn’t intended to shout at her. When Liz didn’t reply, he went on, in a calmer voice, to once again give her the opportunity to choose.

“Elizabeth, I have no intention of making you beholden to me because you want a relationship with your daughter. You will have that. And, you should have all of the other things you want and deserve. You should get married. You should have more children. I won’t stand in the way of that. Of any of it.”

Red stopped, hoping desperately for a reply as the voices inside his head screamed!

_Tell me you didn’t mean it._

_Tell me that isn’t what you wanted!_

_Tell me you want us to be a family!!_

_Tell me you LOVE me!!!_

But his inaudible pleas were met only with…

_Silence._

Liz was stunned by his emotional outburst.   He had alway been so restrained.  So calculated.  So...in control.

_He doesn’t know. He doesn’t understand. He is still unwilling to believe that someone, that I, could actually LOVE him!_

Liz didn’t know what to do. How could she get through to him? She was here! She hadn’t looked for Tom! She had looked for HIM! If he didn’t understand that she kissed him because she wanted HIM, how could she make him understand?!?

_He really is as damaged as I thought all those years ago._

_Broken._

_Beyond repair?_

_Silence._

And, in her silence, he found his answer.

_It was what she intended._

_It was what she meant._

_She wants her daughter but not you._

_She does NOT love you._

_The night on the ship was simply, as you suspected, desperation._

As the defining silence continued, Red gave a small sad smile and a nod…

“Goodnight, Elizabeth”

…and walked out the door.


	19. Chapter 19

Emma picked up her phone, began to dial, and stopped.

This was their usual routine. William and Agnes would come to the concert. She would finish her responsibilities at the concert hall, perhaps have a drink with friends to give him time to get Agnes to sleep, and then she would go to their house. They would drink wine. Some nights he would make her dinner.

“You must be starving…,” he would say when she walked in and proceed to serve her a lavish meal from just “what was in the ‘fridge.”

They would sit by the fire and talk well into the evening- debriefing the most exquisite moments of the performance, Agnes’ reactions, and plans for the next day. Before the night was over, they would make love and sleep in each other’s arms until the alarm he religiously set so as not to expose their relationship to Agnes interrupted.

Emma sighed.

But, now there was…Elizabeth. She was definitely NOT part of the routine.

There was…something…about her. Something about William’s reaction to her that Emma just couldn’t place but that made her uncomfortable. There was clearly more history there than Elizabeth simply being “Diane’s best friend and Agnes’ godmother.”

And Liz’s comment - “…getting reacquainted…” - grated Emma’s nerves.

 _You have nothing to lose, Emma._ She thought resolutely as she completed the number and pushed send.

Red had retreated to his room after Elizabeth, through her silence, made it abundantly clear that there was no future for them.

The ring of the phone startled him.

“The usual?” the woman’s voice said, playfully.

Red thought for a moment.

_You have nothing to lose, Reddington._

Red took a deep breath.

“Of course...”

Emma arrived a while later. She let herself in as she always had and found Red in the kitchen.

“You must be starving!”

Emma relaxed. Perhaps tonight would be “business as usual.”

_Where is Elizabeth?_

In the spirit of “as usual,” Emma approached him, standing at the counter preparing her dinner, and placed a lingering kiss on his lips.

“I am starving,” she whispered, teasingly.

Red offered a small smile.

_Elizabeth doesn’t want you but Emma…_

As Emma ate the meal he had thoughtfully prepared for her, Red indulged in his third scotch of the evening.

They talked about all the things they normally did despite the fact that the evening was anything but “normal.” As Red poured another drink, Emma finally found the courage to pull the pin on the grenade.

“Tell me more about Elizabeth?” she asked innocently.

Red, now on his fourth scotch, tilted his head as he considered her request.

“What would you like to know,” he asked dryly.

“She seems familiar to me. Like I have met her before. Has she been to Seattle?”

Red was a bit taken aback by her observation.

_She recognizes her because she looks, and acts, like Agnes!_

“No.”

Emma thought for a moment before she proceeded. Preparing herself for the consequences of her line of questioning.

“She is more than just your wife’s best friend and Agnes’ godmother, isn’t she?”

Again, Red was surprised by her intuition.

_Perhaps you don’t hide it as well as you think you do!_

“Perhaps.”

_That was a disguised “yes.”_

Emma clenched at the response but continued without breaking eye contact.

“How long is she staying?”

“Indefinitely.”

Another blow.

“Will she be staying with you?”

Red thought for a moment, turning his gaze to the fire.

Elizabeth was quite clear this evening, as she had been in the past. You will not be part of her future.

“No,” he answered finally.

_Really?_

Emma was surprised by his answer. She had assumed this string of one-word replies was the end of whatever it was they had. But this was…hope.

_“You have nothing to lose, Emma!”_

“Can I kiss you, William?”

Red held his breath for a moment, contemplating her question.

“Yes.”

Her kiss was warm and moist on his lips. Just the escape he needed from the events of the day and the evening. He returned it hungrily.

For Emma, this kiss was somehow different that their others. Urgent. Distracted. Desperate.

She understood and pulled away from him.

“I think you have some work to do, William.”

Red looked at her, perplexed by her reaction.

“That wasn’t me you were kissing,” she said sadly.

Red closed his eyes and sighed.

_Was it that obvious?!?!_

“Emma…” he began hesitantly. The last thing he intended to do was to hurt Emma.

“Stop,” she said quietly.

“I sensed there was…something…between you the first time you introduced Elizabeth to me,” Emma began.

Red cringed and, again, began to speak.

“Look…” Emma interrupted, hesitantly, until the small voice in her head reminded her that she had nothing to lose.

“…William…I love you.”

Red was immediately reminded of his conversation earlier in the day.

_“What is it that older men want…one thing…just a different thing.”_

_Love._

That was really all he wanted. Someone to love him. Unconditionally.

_Emma LOVES you._

“I know that scares you…but you need to know,” She finished, confidently.

“I don’t know what it is between you and Elizabeth. But, it clearly isn’t finished…” she continued, a sadness audible in her voice.

Red remained silent; in awe of her perception.

“You need to finish it before we can continue…”

Emma’s proximity to tears tore Red’s heart to pieces.

“But…please be careful. From what I can tell, she will break your heart.  If she hasn’t already…”

Red looked away.

_She was right._

_Again._

“I’ll be here when you are ready,” she finished, placing a tender yet passionate kiss on his lips before getting up and walking out the door of the Markum house.


	20. Chapter 20

Red didn’t sleep well. In fact, he didn’t sleep at all. His eyes were bloodshot as he rolled out of bed and made himself a cup of coffee.

He needed to escape. To remove himself from this impossible situation. Figure out a way to move forward. He needed space.

So he made the necessary arrangements.

“Good morning, Daddy.”

“Good morning, sweetheart.”

“Is Miss Elizabeth awake?” Agnes asked, enthusiastically.

Red bristled. He didn’t know if Elizabeth was still asleep or simply continuing to reestablish her boundaries. He suspected the later.

“I haven’t seen her this morning,” Red replied dryly.

“Agnes, would you like to spend the weekend on the boat?’

The little girl looked up at her father.

“You mean it?”

“I do. I called and asked them to prepare it for us this morning.”

Agnes beamed. She loved the time they spent on their sailboat. She would help sail the boat. They would swim in the ocean. Cook on the boat. Look at the stars. Sleep on the boat. It was always an adventure.

“Go get your things.”

“Ok!” She said as she ran to her room.

“Good morning, Miss Elizabeth,” she said, blowing past Liz.

“Where is she off to?” Liz asked with a laugh.

“To pack,” Red said, concentrating on his newspaper.

“Pack? Where are we going?” Liz asked, perplexed by this impromptu trip.

“Agnes and I are going away for the weekend.”

Liz caught her breath.

_They are leaving. You are not invited._

“We will be back on Monday. I promise.”

Liz searched his face for reassurance.

“I would never take her from you, Elizabeth.”

Liz believed him. Her nerves flared but her gut told he was telling the truth.

“I think you need to use this time to find your own place,” Red began, unable to look at her.

“It has been long enough. We need to determine what…“normal”…will be for Agnes.”

He was firm, hurt, but not angry.

Liz’s heart sunk.

She tried to tell him last night. Wanted to tell him. Wanted him to know why she had made those fateful decisions. Wanted him to know why she couldn’t face her feelings for him then. Most of all, wanted him to know that the only thing she wanted was for them to be together. For them to be a family.

But she hadn’t been able to find the words and he had left. She had let him.

_You’re a fool, Liz!_

Yet another moment in time, along with a dozen others, which she wished she had to do over again.

Before she could respond, Agnes came bounding into the room.

“I’m ready. Are you ready to go on the boat, Miss Elizabeth?”

_Boat?_

“Miss Elizabeth isn’t coming along this time. It will just be us, Agnes,” Red interjected. “Let’s go.”

“You don’t want to come along?” the little girl questioned.

Liz had been part of everything they had done for the past few months. It never occurred to Agnes that Liz wouldn’t be joining them.

“You’re going on a boat?”

“Yes – the sailboat. We go swimming. Daddy tries to catch fish. I navigate. We cook in the galley. And, there is even a bedroom.”

Liz’s disappointment was visible on her face. Tears visible in her eyes.

She looked at Red who had returned to reading his newspaper.

“I would love to join you, Agnes, but I think you and your dad should enjoy this trip on your own,” Liz said, trying to sound like she was ok with the decision that was not hers.

“But…you should come with us!”

“Agnes…let’s go. Grab your bag, please.” Red said, decisively, putting down his newspaper and moving towards the door.

“Daddy!”

“Enough…let’s go.”

Liz had not seen Red be this commanding with their daughter since her arrival.

“Alright…” the child conceded.

“We will see you Monday, Elizabeth,” Red said as he pulled on William Markum’s baseball cap and followed Agnes to the garage.

The door slammed behind them.

_“Elizabeth is not coming with us.”_

_“…find your own place…”_

He had effectively told her to go. In the past, he had offered to leave. Remove himself from her life if asked that of him. But never had he asked HER to go.

Liz began to cry.


	21. Chapter 21

Red and Agnes drove in silence for the first part of the journey to the sea. Agnes had been bit frightened by her father’s cross demeanor. She didn't remember ever being afraid of him.

“I think Miss Elizabeth wanted to come with us,” she finally chimed in from the backseat.

“I don’t think Miss Elizabeth knows what she wants,” Red replied curtly.

Agnes was confused.

“Are you angry with Miss Elizabeth?”

Red really didn’t want to talk about it, particularly with his six-year-old, so he didn’t answer.

“Daddy?”

“No, Agnes. I’m not angry with Miss Elizabeth,” he said dryly, looking at her in the rearview mirror.

“You weren’t very nice to her,” Agnes observed.

Red sighed. His patience with this particularly line of questioning was very thin.

“I’ve been nicer to Miss Elizabeth than you will ever understand, Agnes.”

Agnes frowned.

“She was very sad when you told her she couldn’t come along. I think you hurt her feelings.”

_Silence._

“You should tell her you’re sorry.”

_Silence._

“When I told Molly I thought her dress was ugly, you told me that when I hurt someone’s feelings I’m supposed to say I’m sorry.”

_Precocious! And it’s your own fault Reddington!!_

“It’s not the same, Agnes.”

“Why not?”

Red sighed again.

_Relentless._

“Have I ever told you that you are just like your mother!” Red finished with another exasperated look at Agnes in the rearview mirror.

Agnes giggled from the backseat; her laughter softening Red’s disposition ever so slightly.

“Yes! You said I’m beautiful like her. I’m smart like her. And, that you loved her very much.”

“That’s right…”

_What I didn’t tell you is that she didn’t love me._

Thankfully, Agnes was quiet in the backseat for the remainder of the trip to the sea, leaving Red to his thoughts.

He had been harsher than he intended.

_Is it really such a crime that she doesn’t share your feelings?_

_I suppose not._

_Would you have expected her to make such a bold declaration had the circumstances not taken a dramatic shift?_

_No._

_Hasn’t there been countless times when you would have given all you had to enjoy one more conversation? One opportunity for Agnes to experience a world with both of her parents? One more roll of her eyes? One more jab at your expense?_

_Are you really CHOOSING to exclude her?_

As they pulled into the parking lot of the marina, Red picked up his phone.

“Are you calling Miss Elizabeth?” Agnes asked, hopefully, as Liz picked up the other line.

“Hi.”

“Red?”

“Yes.”

_Silence._

“I owe you an apology, Elizabeth. I didn’t mean to be so brusque with you this morning.”

“Oh…”

This was not what Liz had expected. Frankly, she never expected him to call much less apologize.

“Are you going to ask her to come on the boat?” Liz heard Agnes say in the background.

Red shot an “I’m getting to that” look to the backseat of the car and was rewarded with a full-on Agnes smile coupled with a giggle.

“Agnes…and I…would like you to join us. If you would like. There is certainly no obligation...”


	22. Chapter 22

Liz arrived at the marina to find Red in his captain’s hat showing Agnes how to tie a knot to hold the sail in place.

“What is it with you two and knots?” Liz asked jovially, announcing her presence.

“Miss Elizabeth,” Agnes exclaimed rushing over to see their guest.

“’Captain of a ship…’” Liz said quietly as Red approached, offering her a hand to step onto the boat.

“Not exactly a ship but it will due,” he said with a small smile.

“Thank you for the invitation,” Liz said sincerely as she stepped aboard.

“Thank Agnes.”

“Alright, my dear,” Red said, turning to Agnes. “Let’s set sail.”

Agnes giggled and moved towards the captain’s seat.

Liz was awed by the “boat.” It was far larger and more luxurious than she expected. When they said they were going on a “boat” she expected more rustic accommodations. She was have called this craft a small yacht.

Liz watched Red and Agnes maneuver the boat through the marina and ultimately into the open ocean in perfect tandem. Agnes at the steering wheel; Red beside her, gently correcting and giving instructions.

Once they cleared the bouys on the edge of the marina, she heard Red shout.

“Alright, hoist the main sail.”

Agnes pushed the button and Liz was treated to a beautiful unfurling of boat’s colorful sail and immediately felt them pick up speed.

“Now the jib, Daddy?”

“Perhaps…where do you want to go?”

Agnes thought for a moment.

“How about the island with the birds?”

“Alright, then yes, hoist the jib.”

Agnes pushed the next button and Liz watched the front sail deploy as the wind began to blow through her hair.

“Sailing was far more interesting before ‘autopilot,’” Red said, with a frown.

“But it would have taken four men to sail this boat without it so I suppose there is a trade off,” he finished before turning back to the little girl at the wheel.

“A bit to the starboard, Agnes.”

Liz felt the board begin to turn to the right.

Wow - she continued to be in awe of this child and her father.

They sailed at what Liz could only imagine was full speed for much of the morning. Red had taken the captain’s seat, and sat Agnes on this lap where she continued to command the steering wheel. The trip was quiet with the exception of the Red’s quiet instructions to the would-be captain at the appropriate time. Liz found herself settling in and enjoying the feel of the breeze, the smell of the ocean, the colors of the sea, and, particularly, the sight before her.

After a few hours on the open sea, they spotted the small island that Agnes’ requested.

“Let’s go swimming,” Agnes asked excitedly.

“Alright,” Red replied. “Go put your suit on.”

Liz watched as Agnes immediately scurried below deck and Red took the reins to begin the process of stopping and anchoring the sailboat. He was quit at ease with the process, as she would have expected…sort of. She had envisioned him at the helm of ship but a much larger ship. She wanted to say “thank you” for the invitation to join them. To tell him she understood why he loved the sea so much. To tell him how much the setting reminded her of “that night.” But the words just wouldn’t come.

Agnes returned in her pink and blue swim suit and shrugged on her red lifejacket as Red dropped the anchor in a calm, secluded bay near the small deserted island.

“Ready?” she asked enthusiastically.

“Almost,” Red replied as he, too, went below deck.

“Could you help me with my jacket?” Agnes asked.

Liz couldn’t help but smile.

“Of course!” she replied as she zipped the child’s jacket and fastened the necessary hooks.

“Do you want to go swimming with us?”

“I didn’t bring my suit,” Liz replied, a little sad to not be able to join in the fun in this beautiful setting

Agnes frowned.

“How about you throw me in then,” she replied seriously.

Red came up the stairs to Liz laughing at Agnes’ response.

_Throw her in? Seriously?_

He smiled - he loved the sound of Lizzie’s laugh.

“What did I miss,” he asked as he hopped on the deck in swim trunks, a t-shirt, and bare feet.

Liz turned towards Red and laughed out loud. Red in shorts and a t-shirt were so out of context she couldn’t help herself. She would always think of him in a three-piece suit and a fedora.

“What?” Red replied, looking at his outfit, feigning embarrassment.

Liz shook her head with a broad smile.

“I told miss Elizabeth she could throw me in,” Agnes giggled.

“But that’s my job!” Red said as he pulled off his t-shirt, grabbed Agnes, and walked toward the edge of the boat.

As Red turned his back preparing to throw Agnes into the ocean, the sight of his burns on full display in the bright sunlight caused Liz to gasp loudly. Her hands covering her mouth.

Red stopped; perplexed by the sudden reaction. But then…he remembered. Like putting his gun aside, he had become accustomed to not hiding his burns. Agnes knew. Emma knew. Not everything, but enough. Since Elizabeth’s ‘death’, the scars on his back had become a non-issue. Honestly, it had been a relief to not have to pretend anymore.

“Red?!?!?!? My god!” Liz whispered desperately.

Red set Agnes down.

“Just a minute, sweetheart,” he said to Agnes, turning slowly towards Liz.

He approached her carefully and took both of her hands; moving them away from her mouth; holding them in his.

“I told you that night that we shared scars, Elizabeth,” he whispered.

Liz’s mind raced as the memory flooded back to her.

FLASHBACK

Once they had made their fateful decision, Liz had made quick work of Red’s vest but she was incredibly attentive to each individual button on his shirt. While Liz worked the buttons, Red’s hands found their way to her hair. His lips grazed the side of her face, trailing to her neck, savoring each taste of her.

Her nails and soft fingertips grazed his chest with each unfastened button causing his lip to return to her and deepen their kiss with a soft sigh. With each passing touch, he became more and more intoxicated by her. By the feel of her soft skin under his hands. By her fresh, feminine scent. By her delicate hands on him.

But as she unfastened the final button and moved her hands to his shoulders to slide his shirt off his warm body, Red froze.

 _The scars. Y_ _ou HAVE to tell her!_

Red paused. His hand moved to his shoulders and caught hers before she could push his shirt further off his shoulders. He broke their kiss and looked deeply into her eyes.

Liz looked at him; her eyes questioning his hesitation. She didn’t think she could bear him rejecting her.

She was surprised when he turned his gaze to the scar on her wrist and kissed it gently.

“We share scars, Elizabeth,” he said softly, returning his eyes to hers.

 _The fire._ _He was there!_

But…she already knew that. And, right now, she didn’t care to know more about the fire. She only wanted to experience more of him.

“Don't stop...” she pleaded as she kissed him again.

END FLASHBACK

Liz was overwhelmed by the memory.

“But…I never saw them. I only…felt…them,” she replied, walking behind him and running her hand along the full length of his back. Feeling the pain still radiating from the now healed wounds.

Red drew a quick breath as her hand caressed the scars on his back. Her touch reminding him vividly of their night together.

_Things could have been so different!_

“Lizzie,” he began, looking at her over his shoulder and seeing her horrified look, her hands still tracing the outlines of the burns on his back.

“It’s ok, Miss Elizabeth. They don’t hurt anymore,” Agnes chimed in cheerfully.

Liz offered small, reassuring smile to the little girl before Agnes went on.

“He got them helping a little girl out of a fire. She was ok. And he would do it again tomorrow,” Agnes mimicked gleefully the words she had clearly heard from her father when she, too, had questioned the disfiguration.

Liz looked at Agnes in disbelief.

 _Helping a little girl out of a fire..._ _My GOD!_

Red’s shoulders fell at Agnes’ words. Hesitantly, he turned towards Liz. This wasn’t what he wanted. He never intended for her to know that she was the reason for his scars.

“We share scars…” she whispered as the reality set in. She had known that he had been there. But not once did she consider that it was him who had pulled her from the flames.

“Red?”

Liz’s eyes welled up with tears.

“I would do it again…” he whispered, holding her gaze.

Agnes was uncomfortable with what was transpiring between the adults before her. Her dad never made big deal of why his back looked different. She didn’t understand why Liz was making such a fuss.

“Daddy…are you going to throw me in?” Agnes asked impatiently, breaking the spell that encircled them.

Red held Liz’s gaze for what seemed like an eternity before acknowledging Agnes’ request.

“YES! I am absolutely going to throw you in,” he said jovially as he hoisted the little girl into his arms, threw her into the ocean, and jumped in after her.


	23. Chapter 23

Liz finished cleaning up the small kitchen after dinner. The boat, while luxurious and spacious, still had a finite amount of space and she needed some time to herself.

Seeing the scars on Red’s back on full display had reopened the vault where she stored her innermost thoughts, fears, feelings. A vault she closed several years ago, unwilling to dwell on what she couldn’t change. But now it was open again…

_Why has he never told you that it was him who led you out of the flames that night?_

_Why did THAT need to be a secret??_

She had spent the afternoon watching Agnes and Red swim in the ocean. The little girl repeatedly climbed up the ladder of boat only to jump back into the ocean and swim to her father who seemed to get further and further away each time. For a while, Red even removed Agnes’ lifejacket and painstakingly taught her to swim.

“Daddy…I’m afraid!”

“I’m right here. I won’t let anything happen to you.”

Liz remembered Red saying similar things to her. Remembered how calming his presence was during those frightening moments. Sure enough, Agnes could sense his commitment. She listened intently to his instruction and, before long, was swimming on her own. Her dad never too far from her side.

When she was tired, Agnes wrapped her arms around her dad’s neck as he swam them both back to the boat.

The giggles from Agnes and laughs from Red were intoxicating. And, if Liz were honest with herself, this was all she ever wanted.

But now, the revelation that afternoon that it was Red who pulled her out of the fire as a child created a tremendous guilt inside her.

_What on earth have you done to deserve all he has done for you?_

As she finished in the kitchen, she heard voices from the deck. She pushed the thoughts from her mind and walked quietly up the stairs so as not to interrupt yet another endearing father/daughter moment.

She found them lying on the bow of the boat, Agnes in the crook of Red’s arm pointing at the sky.

“I found the big dipper.”

“Show me.”

Agnes proceeded to trace the dipper in the sky with her finger.

“Right.”

“So then I follow the arc of the handle to…ummm…the big bright one…Arc…”

“That’s right…Arcturus.”

“Right! Arcturus. Which is in the kite.”

“Well…yes…it looks like a kite. Show me.”

Agnes again procced to trace the constellation.

“What’s its name?”

“Boot!” Agnes announced proudly.

“Close. Bootes.”

Liz’s heart smiled as she watched them from a far.

This man was a remarkable father. Patient. Kind. Gentle. Loving. A teacher. She thought again about how different Agnes’ world would have been had she been raised by Tom and was rewarded with more guilt about the foolish choices she had made.

“Now if I look this way and use these stars as pointers….” Agnes continued as she directed her father’s gaze to a particular portion of the night sky.

“That’s right,” Red coached. “What do you find?”

“I can’t find it, Daddy.”

“Yes, you can. Its right here…follow the line,” he said as he took her tiny hand in hers and traced the path.

“See it.”

“Yes!”

“What is it?”

“The North Star!”

“Do you know it’s real name?”

“Ummm…”

“Its Polaris” Liz chimed in.

Red looked at Liz; a softness visible in his eyes.

“Yes…it is…” he said quietly.

“How do you know that, Miss Elizabeth?” Agnes asked curiously.

“Well…it is a very important star to know, Agnes. It’s how you find your way home.” Liz said softly, gazing at Red, Agnes cradled in his arms.

It seemed Polaris had brought her home.

______________________________________________________________________________

Agnes finally asleep, Elizabeth climbed the stairs back to the deck of the boat to find Red sipping on a glass of scotch. She had not had the privilege of putting Agnes to bed at home but, for whatever reason, Agnes requested Liz do the honors of reading the bedtime story this evening. While Liz revealed in the opportunity, Red felt a bit saddened by Agnes’ request.

“Scotch?” Red asked as Elizabeth approached.

“Please.”

Red nodded and got up to pour her a glass as Liz found a seat across from where he was sitting.

They sat in silence. The waves gently lapping the sides of the boat. The gentle breeze whistling.

“Red?”

“Yes?”

“Why did you never tell me about the fire?”

Red sighed deeply.

_So, this is the impossible topic for the evening._

“I did tell you about the fire.”

“You left out kind of a major piece.”

“What would you have gained from knowing, Elizabeth?”

Liz thought silently.

“Elizabeth, WHO pulled you out of the fire when you were four years old is, frankly, irrelevant.”

“I disagree!” Liz countered.

_Sometimes, he could be so irritating; telling her how she should feel!_

“Think about it, Elizabeth. You were a child. Would any sane, or even insane, person truly leave a small child to parish inside a burning building? Would you?”

_Silence._

“I did what 99% of the people on the planet would do if put in the same position. You were in need. I was there. It is as simple as that.”

Liz thought for a moment. In some ways, he was right – who wouldn’t rescue a child from a burning building. But she had so many more questions! She wanted to push him for more answers.

_Why was he there that night?_

_What really happened?_

_Who else was there?_

_How did the fire get started in the first place?_

But, maybe, it was irrelevant – all the events that happened so long ago. After all the pain and suffering of the last ten years, she finally had everything she ever wanted within reach. A child. A man that loved her…perhaps. No more guns. No more death.

_Does it really matter how you came to be in the same fire?_

_Does it really matter why he choose to build an empire to protect you?_

_Does it really matter why he choose to enter your life on your first day at the FBI?_

_And…if you learn the answers to all of these questions, will it change how you felt about him? About Agnes? About your “family?”_

_Could the knowledge you seek bring the return of the danger you so desperately fled?_

Liz sighed. She didn’t want any of it; she only wanted what she saw before her.

Their reality was so fragile. Too fragile.

_Perhaps it is time to focus on the future, Liz. Time to tell him._

Liz took a deep breath.

“Do you remember my last words to you,” Liz asked softly, holding his gaze.

He thought he did. He thought of them often. But, now, with her here…he wasn’t so sure. Had he imagined them? Had his troubled, bereft mind created the memory because it was what he wanted to hear.

It was his turn to be silent.

“Do you?” Liz prompted.

“You said you were scared for Agnes.”

“Yes.”

_Silence._

“You called me ‘Raymond,’” he began, hesitantly.

A lump formed in Red’s throat as the memories overcame him. The only other time she had called him by his first name was the night they created their daughter.

“That’s right. Do you remember what else?”

Red continued to hold her gaze but seemed unable to speak the words. The situation creating a vulnerability he couldn’t bear to confront.

Liz approached him slowly; the rocking of boat beneath their feet creating a volatility that mirrored the conversation.

_At least he can’t run away this time!_

“Red?” she said, now close enough to reach out and touch him. An urge she resisted.

“You told me you…loved…me…” he said, turning to look at the sea; the intensity of the exposure overtaking him.

“…almost.” he finished, looking into the dark sea.

Liz was surprised.

“What?!?! What do you mean ‘almost’?”

“You fell asleep before you finished.”

Liz looked at him perplexed.

Red sighed, turning to face her before he went on.

“You said ‘Raymond, I do love…’”

Liz nodded, expecting him to finish.

“The drugs overtook you before you could tell me WHO you loved.”

All this time, she thought he knew when, in reality, there was gigantic question mark above her entire declaration.

“After you were gone, I…allowed…myself to believe you were talking to me,” Red said quietly.

“Red,” Liz caught herself. “Raymond…”

At the sound of his name, Red looked into her eyes. Disbelief. Skepticism. Clearly visible.

She stepped towards to him; close enough to feel the warmth of his body.

“…I WAS talking to you,” she finished with a whisper.

She could see the relief on his face. Yet he was still, nearly imperceptibly shaking his head “No.”

“Close your eyes.”

Red’s “no” became more pronounced at her request.

“Please.”

When he didn’t honor her request, Liz wrapped her arms around his neck, closed her eyes, and pulled him to her as she had that night on the ship and gently, hopefully, kissed him.

He returned her kiss hesitantly. Cautious. Guarded. Clearly uncertain of where this was going and unwilling to play the fool again.

“Why did you do that?” he asked immediately after her lips released his.

Liz stepped back and took a big deep breath.

“Because before I tell you the rest, you need to know how this is going to end.”


	24. Chapter 24

“Because before I tell you the rest, you need to know how this is going to end.”

Liz stepped away from Red and turned towards the black ocean lit only by the light of the stars and moon.

“I know this might seem hard to believe but I had more clarity in that moment than I had had since the day I met you.”

Red watched her, confused.

“For three years, I had been driven by fear. Fear of…EVERYTHING. But in that intant, when I realized that I…” Liz stopped, recalling the fateful moment.

“…that I would never you see you again….

A silent tear ran down her cheek.

“…everything became crystal clear.”

Red’s heart hurt.

“You were afraid? Of me? Lizzie, I would NEVER have hurt you.”

“No! You wouldn’t!” Liz exclaimed.

“But, Red,…what you were capable of! My God, what I…watched…you do…”

Red winced.

“I wasn’t afraid for MY safety. In fact, quite the opposite. But I was afraid of who you were. Of what you represented. I was afraid of my…unexplained…feelings for you that only seemed to intensify. I was afraid of what that said…about me.”

Red listened intently to her declarations.

He was not an easy man to love. He knew that. He didn’t deserve her love; or anyone’s for the matter.

“I told you that night that I was…drawn…to you. But it was so much more than that. I saw it. I saw…THIS!” Liz confessed.

“I don’t understand, Elizabeth,”

Liz walked closer to him. Her voice a whisper.

“I saw YOU. Glimpses of YOU over the years. Of your kindness. Of your humanity. Of this. Of the REAL Raymond Reddington. That’s the man I fell in love with.”

Red’s chest tightened.

“But I was so afraid of those feelings. And, I was afraid of what I sensed you felt for me.”

Red continued to listen intently, sensing how difficult it was for her to share her realizations.

“Why were you so afraid, Lizzie?”

Liz laughed out loud.

“Really?!?!?!”

“Yes,” he asked calmly, truly wanting to understand.

Liz sighed.

“Ok. Well…for starters…you were Number 4 on the FBI’s most wanted list!” she said matter-of-factly.

“Still am.”

Right! Liz hadn’t thought about that part. She hadn’t checked for a while and briefly wondered if Raymond Reddington still held his position on the list. Apparently, he did.

Liz decided to ignore his comment.

“What happened that night, Red, was my fault…”

She had seduced him. He attempted to resist her; practically begged her to stop. But she had refused to withdraw. Intoxicated by his presence; his heat; her ability to affect him.

“But what happened after that was yours…”

Red looked at her curiously; a hit of anger rising.

_HIS fault. At what point did he EVER have a say in what transpired after they returned to ‘business as usual’ back in Washington?!?!?_

“Go on…” he said defensively, unwilling to believe he was part of mess.

“You gave our baby to Tom.”

Red started at her in disbelief.

“Elizabeth - there is no universe in which I would WILLINGLY hand MY child over to Tom Keen!” he said, forcefully, his voice raised.

“Do you remember what you said to me when I finally found the courage to tell you I was pregnant?”

Of course, he remembered. He remembered being ashamed of what he had said to her.

Red looked away.

“You spouted off about how you had known for ‘some time’ by changes in my mood, my body.”

“Lizzie…”

“Rather than stop for a moment to see how frightened I was, you acted like the cocky high school football star who knocked up the cheerleader and passed it off as other guy’s mistake!”

Red winced at her accusation.

“Elizabeth!”

“You ASSUMED the baby was Tom’s,” she continued, voice raised.

“And you didn’t correct me,” he countered angrily.

“How was I supposed to correct you when you hadn’t ever acknowledged our… indiscretion…in the first place!?!? It was as though it never happened, Red.”

Red shook his head in disbelief.

“And then you proceeded to chastise me for my error in judgement and tell me how difficult it would make our work going forward! Didn’t you think I KNEW that!”

Red was silent as her voice grew louder.

_We should have had this conversation six years ago!_

“You knew there was no way the child I was carrying could be Tom’s. But your ‘assumption’ made your feelings about our baby quite clear, Red.”

He couldn’t do it anymore – listen silently to what she THOUGHT she knew.

“You went to Tom the day after you were exonerated. Not a week after. Or two weeks. THE DAY AFTER!” Red replied angrily.

“I gave you a CHOICE when I said I ‘assumed’ the child was Tom’s. I thought it is what you wanted. For Tom to be your baby’s father. To live happily ever after as you had planned before I showed up and delivered unimaginable chaos to your doorstep. I gave you what I thought you wanted – the opportunity for you, Tom Keen, and our baby to be a family. AND YOU TOOK IT!”

“What choice did I have! You refused to even acknowledge what happened between us!” Liz shouted back.

“Monsters don’t get to have families, Elizabeth!”

“Daddy?” said the timid voice from the top of the stairs.

Red groaned and Liz looked at him apologetically. They had been shouting. In theory, this had been a good place to have this long-overdue conversation – nowhere to run when things got uncomfortable – but in hindsight…

“Hello, sweetheart,” Red said, kneeling down to find Agnes near tears.

Red’s heart broke at the sight of her tears. He had never been the one to make her cry.

_She is afraid of you, too._

“I’m sorry, Agnes. I didn’t mean to frighten you,” he said softly as the little girl fell into his arms and buried her face in his shoulder.

“Daddy?”

“Yes.”

“Why don’t monsters get to have families?” Agnes asked innocently.

Red closed his eyes tightly. He wanted to throw himself overboard; to drown in the cold, dark sea. He knew the answer to her question; lived the answer to the question. And, yet, didn’t know how to respond truthfully without robbing his child of her innocence. Tears formed in his eyes.


	25. Chapter 25

“Why don’t monsters get to have families?” Agnes asked innocently.

Liz watched the scene before her play out in slow motion. This damaged man holding tightly to the only person he would allow to love him yet unable to see that he had both the capacity to love AND the capacity to be loved.

The tears in his eyes had her near tears herself. She needed to save him from whatever he felt compelled to say in response to the child’s harmless question.

“Agnes…” Liz began sitting close to Red so Agnes could see her.

Agnes turned to face Liz without taking her head off her Dad’s shoulder.

“Who is your favorite monster?”

Red looked at Liz, an angry expression filling his face.

_What the hell are you doing!?!?!_

Liz responded a reassuring “just let me handle this one” look.

Agnes thought for a moment.

“Elmo.”

“Elmo. Elmo is one of my favorite monsters, too,” Liz said with a reassuring smile.

“Do you have another favorite?”

Agnes thought for another moment.

“Abby.”

“Right. Any others?”

“Cookie monster,” Agnes with the beginnings of a smile.

Red sighed with relief. Elizabeth was fixing it. The look in his eyes said “thank you.”

“Good.”

“Grover,” Agnes said more enthusiastically, beginning to like this game.

“Right. Agnes, do you think Elmo and Grover and Abby and Cookie Monster have families?”

Agnes pondered Liz’s question.

“Yes,” she said finally.

“Me, too. I think monsters have families.”

“Yeah…” the tired little girl replied, feeling much better knowing that her favorite monsters wouldn’t have to go without families, as she laid her head back on her dad’s strong shoulder.

“Thank you,” Red mouthed to Liz as he pulled Agnes onto his lap.

“You’re welcome,” she mouthed back with a small smile.

Red sat with Agnes on his lap, the child snuggling close to her protector. The sea gently rocking the child back to sleep as Liz and Red sat in silence.

“I’ll be back,” Red said quietly as he picked up the sleeping child and carried her down the stairs.

Red was exhausted from the emotional rollercoaster that he and Elizabeth had taken for a ride. She confirmed her last words to him. She had kissed him. And, then she told him it was all his fault.

Red’s heart hurt. He couldn’t fathom that it had ultimately been him who set the wheels in motion; pushed Elizabeth into Tom’s arms with his silence and evasion.

He had known about her pregnancy well before that moment. Had time to come to terms with what it meant and to develop a response for when she told him. But he hadn’t. Instead, just like Elizabeth, he had chosen to ignore it and hope that it would go away until the moment she told him when he instead acted like a panicked teenager.

Red sat next to a sleeping Agnes; more in love with the child’s mother than he ever thought possible.

_“I need you to know how this is going to end.”_

That’s what she said after she had kissed him.

_Is it possible they could make it right after all this time? Be a family?_

He sighed heavily, walked back up the stairs and poured himself a scotch.

“I panicked, Elizabeth,” he began quietly, looking at the dark sea.

Liz was surprised. One thing Red never did was admit he was wrong. About anything. Which was probably why it took them nearly seven years to have this conversation. That, and the fact she never liked to be wrong either!

Liz didn’t reply. Just looked at him.

“None of this was supposed to happen. I was supposed to protect you from afar. Keep the demons away. You were never supposed to know I existed, much less…end up in my bed…”

“Red…”

“No, Lizzie. It was my weakness. My inability to resist you. My selfishness that put us in a terribly compromised position.”

“Selfishness?!?”

Liz would have called Raymond Reddington many things but selfish was not one of them.

Red exhaled, heavily.

“I thought it would be easy. Show up at FBI headquarters. Turn myself in. Become your source. Your confident. Build a trust between us so I could protect you at point blank range from anything and everything that put you in harm’s way. I had thought of EVERYTHING. Anticipated EVERY threat. Thought through ALL the details. Except…”

“Except?” she prompted.

“Except…you!” Red laughed out loud and shook his head incredulity as he turned towards her

“I hadn’t anticipated YOU.”

Liz looked at him, perplexed.

“EVERYTHING about you surprised me. You stabbed a PEN in my neck in that bloody hotel room in our first week together!”

Liz smiled and shrugged.

“There was a fire inside you I hadn’t anticipated,” he said intensely before softening.

“The black dress you wore in Montreal made it difficult for me to breath,” he whispered.

Liz shuttered at his statement. Already in their first moments together, she had affected him.

“You sought…comfort…with me. More often than was truly necessary, probably. I came to crave those nights you would just appear on my doorstep.  The way you would fall into my arms. Reach for my hand. The way it FELT to touch you…”

“It turned out you look incredible in red,” he confessed with a sigh.

Red paused. Every moment vividly etched in his memory.

Liz tilted her head; a small smile crossing her lips as he described what drew him to her from the very beginning.

“But it was in that ridiculous night in Earl King’s lair that I knew it was pointless to resist what was happening to me.”

Liz was taken aback when he brought up the night of the absurd auction.

“I sent you away. Told you to take the boy and go.”

Liz remembered it well - the emotion that had come over her at the realization that he would likely be killed. The memory caused her to shutter.

“And then…you came back. For me. Even after I told you to go. You came back.”

Liz looked at him. A sadness in her eyes. She had wondered if anyone had ever helped him.

NO - was the resounding answer.

“You’d done it before. Come for me, helped me. But I didn’t see it. This time was different. It was the way you looked at me before you left. No one EVER came back for me, Elizabeth. Until you…”

His revelation created a pain in her chest.

“You said my name. I heard it,” she remembered, somberly.

Red nodded. He thought she might have heard his final prayer as Yabari prepared to take his prize.

“It wasn’t meant for you.”

“I know.”

Liz understood. He wanted her- the comfort of her - to be the last thing on his mind before the end.

“And they only intensified after that – my feelings for you. Became harder and harder to resist. To keep locked away. Hidden from view.”

“And then, there you were,” he said, returning to the memory of their one passionate night on the ship.

“Your fingers in my hair; your lips pressed to mine. The idea of you desiring me, wanting ME, was intoxicating. And, I let it happen. Because, selfishly, I wanted nothing in the world more than you.”

He had excelled at keeping his feelings from her. Liz had sensed changes in him as their relationship evolved but she would have never guessed the depth of his emotions.

“Why didn’t you tell me?” Liz implored.

“Really!?!??” Red asked, throwing the same response to her that she had launched at him earlier in the evening.

_The number of reasons flew through her mind at lightning speed._

Liz shrugged. They had simply danced around each other for three years.

_So much lost time._

_Lost opportunity._

It made her sad.

“I panicked, Elizabeth. It was my fault that we were in this…predicament. And, worse, I didn’t know how to protect the TWO of you. I had enough trouble keeping you safe much less a child. An infant. MY child. The child that would undoubtedly be a target before it was ever born. And, I had failed at that before. I couldn’t bear the thought of failing…again…”

Liz’s heart hurt for him as Red once again relived the loss of his wife and daughter.

_Silence._

Fear of protecting the child they created - that was a fear she understood.

“Tom was so excited,” she whispered, beginning the story of her own culpability.

Red was drawn from his grief and regret by her words.

“What?”

“Tom was excited,” she said with a sad shrug.

“I didn’t tell him I was pregnant. Hadn’t intended to at that point. He found my pros and cons list. He was beside himself with joy. Never considered that the baby wasn’t his.”

Red rolled his eyes.

_He was always such a snotty, overconfident little bastard._

“He said he was ready to settle down. Give up his old life to raise our baby. Start over.”

Liz hesitated but forced herself to go on.

“I was so torn. How could I ever keep this child safe given who I was; who its father was. I thought adoption would be best but part of me couldn’t do it. I had been abandoned as a child and I simply couldn’t do that to my baby. Tom and I had lived a fantasy for years. We had shared a life that, at one point, was happy. We planned a family. When he described our future, I could envision it.”

That statement caused a well of regret to form in the pit of Red’s stomach.

“He was excited. He painted an alluring picture of the future that I so desperately wanted. And, he was willing to give up the life he led. He was a…safe...safer, at least, choice for the baby.”

“Everything I wasn’t,” Red said softly, his voice filled with regret.

Liz sighed and nodded.


	26. Chapter 26

“Everything I wasn’t,” Red said softly, his voice filled with regret.

Liz sighed and nodded.

“Kaplan made us an offer that I thought I couldn’t refuse. An offer that would protect Agnes. After all we had been through that day, all I could think of was protecting my baby.”

Red sighed; every part of him feeling heavy under the weight of their conversation.

_So many missed opportunities._

“But Red, when I asked you come in so I could say ‘goodbye’ to you. When I realized that I would truly never see you again…”

Tears began to form in Liz’s eyes.

“…it all became crystal clear!”

Red listened intently, waiting for the next shoe to drop.

“You loved me. We had a beautiful daughter. And…I LOVED YOU!”

Red shook his head “no.”

“YES! But it was too late. The drug was taking effect. I couldn’t change it. But, Red, I wouldn’t have gone through with it. Had everything worked and Nick had been able to revive me as planned. I wouldn’t have done it.”

“It is easy to say that in hindsight, Elizabeth,” Red said, softly. Guarded.

“I would have found our baby. We would have found you. And stopped running. From everything…”

Liz slowly moved towards Red.

“Can we please stop running now? Stop running away from each other.”

Red continued to shake his head “no.”

“You deserve so much more, Elizabeth.”

“Stop! I don’t want more. I want YOU!” she pleaded.

Red turned towards the sea. This life he created was a fragile fantasy. It was lovely but it was fiction. At any moment, someone or something from the past could swoop in and take it all away.

“Elizabeth, the world thinks you’re dead. You have a reset. You can be whoever and whatever you desire. I can’t. I’m still Raymond Reddington, No. 4 on the FBI’s most wanted list! You deserve some who is free to do whatever you want to do, Elizabeth. Someone who isn’t going to be looking over their shoulder for the rest of their life. Someone who won’t be forever running from the past. Someone who can take you to Paris for your birthday. Someone you can grow old with….”

“I want to grow old with YOU.”

“I’m already old, Elizabeth.”

Liz rolled her eyes.

_Why does this have to be so hard?!!?_

“I want us to be family. I didn’t know that before but I have known it for six years and know it now. And I don’t care where the future takes us, as long as it takes us there together,” Liz said as she got closer.

Red stood with his back to her. Silent. Willing himself to take a risk yet unable to go through with it.

“What do you want, Red?” she asked quietly, placing her hand gently on his shoulder, imploring him to face her.

The conflict in his eyes was unbearable and he remained silent.

“What do YOU want, Raymond?”

Red took a deep breath; his eyes never straying from Elizabeth. He began slowly. Pausing after each item on his list.

“I want to wake up with you next to me every morning.”

Liz smiled and stepped closer.

“I want Agnes to climb into bed with us on Sundays so we can do the New York Times crossword together.”

“I want to celebrate birthdays.”

Liz smiled gently.

“I want to watch you and Agnes unwrap Christmas gifts.”

“I want to cook dinner but I want you to clean up the mess.”

The tears that had formed in Liz’s eyes earlier began to fall as he created her definition of “family.”

“Ok…” she nodded as the tears fell.

“I want to kiss you under the mistletoe. I want to be able to kiss you whenever the mood strikes.”

Liz’s heart skipped a beat. And it seemed she no longer had any control over the tears that were now streaming freely down her face.

“I want to hold your hand anytime I feel like it; even if there isn’t a reason.”

“I want to be able to tell you that I love you.”

Liz smiled through her tears; truly captivated by the deceptive simplicity of what he wanted.

“And I want you to kiss me goodnight. Every night. Even if we are angry. Without exception.”

Red reached up and gently wiped the tear from Liz’s cheek.

“I never want to make you cry, Elizabeth,” Red said softly, placing his hands gently on the side of her face.

Liz shook her head “no.”

“These are happy tears. Good tears,” she whispered.

“I meant what I said. All those years ago. And I’m not afraid of it anymore. Raymond, I do love YOU.”

That was it. That was all he wanted. All he ever wanted.

For her to love him, without fear.

When he kissed her, it was different that it had been in the short moments they had shared since Liz returned. It was like the first time he kissed her. On another boat, over seven years ago. Worshipful. Full of promise. Full of love.

Liz melted into him. Her knees weaker with each passing moment his lips remained on hers.

Her soft sigh only encouraged him to intensify their kiss; his hands moving from her face to her hair as her arms pulled him closer to her.

Liz gasped when he broken their breathless kiss and his lips began their assault on neck, finding the spot behind her ear that caused her to lose her mind the first time he discovered it.

“You have an incredible memory, Mr. Reddington,” she murmured, her lips grazing his ear.

Red could help but smile before returning his lips to hers for another impassioned kiss.

Until the little voice at the top of the stairs returned.

“Daddy!” Agnes scolded.

Red paused but didn’t move; still holding Elizabeth in his arms.

“I think we agreed that she was your fault, right?” Red whispered, jokingly, so Agnes couldn’t hear.

Liz laughed.

“Ummm…she looks angry, Red,” Liz whispered back, uncomfortably.

Red blushed.

“This is uncharted territory, Elizabeth,” he said, hesitantly, not thrilled about the conversation he was going to have to have with Agnes.

Red took a deep breath before turning to find Agnes glaring at Elizabeth.

“Hello, sweetheart,” Red said as he got down on one knee to be eye level with their daughter.

Agnes didn’t look at her dad but continued to scowl at Elizabeth. She had never witnessed a moment like this. She had been there for a while; seen more than she should have. While she didn’t really know why, she did not at all like what Liz was doing to her dad.

“Agnes,” Red prompted.

Agnes tore her stare away from Elizabeth to look at her father with similar displeasure.

“Why are you awake, Agnes,” Red deflected.

“I had a bad dream,” she replied grouchily.

“Ah, I see,” Red replied as he scooped up the child and headed for the stairs, throwing Liz a “wish me luck” look as he disappeared from view.

Red tucked her back into bed and propped himself up on a pillow beside her

“Would you like to tell me about your bad dream?”

Silence.

“Agnes.”

“What were you and Miss Elizabeth doing?” Agnes accusingly.

_Here we go!!_

“Something adults do, Agnes.”

“Like drinking wine?”

Red was always impressed with how quickly Agnes could connect A to B.

“Yes.”

The little girl thought for a moment.

“Does it hurt?”

Red stifled a laugh.

“No. It doesn’t hurt. In fact…it makes you very happy.”

Agnes was relieved. Red could almost see the gears in her head turning as she pondered her next move.

“I saw Abby’s mom and dad do that once.”

“Really?”

“Yeah. Abby’s mom said that it is something that adults do when they love each other.”

_God bless Abby’s mom!_

“I think Miss Elizabeth loves you.”

Red was startled by Agnes’ comment.

“Why do you think that?” Red asked curiously.

Agnes pondered her Dad’s question.

“She smiles at you a lot.”

“That’s true.”

“She touches you a lot.”

Red chuckled.

“I hadn’t noticed.”

_Well…you sort of noticed!_

“She thinks you’re funny even though you’re not really funny.”

Red laughed out loud at this comment.

“I’m not funny?”

“Not THAT funny”

“Ok.”

_More people should get to experience love through the eyes of a six-year-old._

Silence.

“Do you love Miss Elizabeth?”

_I want to be able to tell you that I love you._

That is what he had said to Elizabeth only moments before. Perhaps he should have added: _I want to be able to tell others that I love you._

Silence.

It was harder than he thought. Breaking down this wall that he had created. He had been more truthful with Agnes than he had been with anyone else in the world. About his feelings for her mother. About his scars. She seemed ok with the idea of him loving Elizabeth. She wasn’t frightened.

“Daddy?” the child prompted.

Silence.

“Yes, Agnes. I do love Miss Elizabeth.”

There is was. He had finally said it out loud. And it didn’t hurt. And he didn’t feel ashamed. He felt, somehow, liberated.

Agnes smiled and thought for a moment.

“If you love Miss Elizabeth, does that make her my mom?”

_Her dad had loved her mom. Her dad loves Elizabeth. Elizabeth is her mom._

It certainly seemed logical. Red was again stunned by this child’s deductive reasoning skills.

Red took a deep breath.

“How would you feel about that Agnes?”

The child thought for a moment.

“I’ve always wanted one.”

“What?”

“A mom.”

Agnes’ admission caused a sharp pain in Red’s chest.

“I think Elizabeth loves you, too.”

“You do?” she replied hopefully.

“Yes”.

“Why?”

Red smiled.

“She smiles at you a lot.” Red began, as Agnes had moments before.

Agnes giggled.

“She makes you your favorite things for lunch.”

“Uh huh.”

“She thinks monsters have families.”

“Me, too!” Agnes grinned.

Red nodded. The thought made his heart leap into his throat. How they had gotten here, he would never understand but it was…perfect!

“Do you think she would want to be my mom?”

Red smiled through the lump in his throat.

“Yes. I do. I think she would like that very much.”

Agnes smiled and stifled a yawn.

“Sweetheart, I think it is time to get some sleep.”

“What about Miss Elizabeth?”

Red had been thinking about that. There was only one bed on the small boat. The one he and Agnes slept in together when they traveled. Perhaps it was good that Agnes had interrupted their earlier…moment.

“She could sleep with us,” Agnes offered.

Red thought for a moment.

“Ok.”

Agnes hopped out of bed and ran up the stairs to find Elizabeth on the deck looking at stars.

“Miss Elizabeth. Daddy says it’s time for bed and that you should come sleep with us.”

Elizabeth was surprised by the dramatic change in the child’s demeanor from earlier AND her offer.

“Really?”

“Yeah…come on.”

Agnes ran back down the stairs and hopped into bed with her dad. Leaving room on the other side for Liz.

“You two ok?” Liz asked hesitantly as she sat down on the bed. Agnes in between them.

Red nodded.

“Yes,” Agnes replied enthusiastically.

“We decided...”

“Agnes,” Red interrupted, wanting to create a bit more pomp and circumstance around Agnes’ request for Elizabeth to be her mother.

“We can talk later about what we decided. Alright?”

“Alright,” the child said as she snuggled in under the covers between her parents.

Liz gave Red a curious smile.

“It’s all going to be fine. Perfect, actually,” he said, reassuringly.

Liz smiled as she lay down next to Agnes.

_I want to wake up with you next to me every morning._

_I want Agnes to climb into bed with us on Sundays so we can do the New York Times crossword together._

“Looks like we aren’t wasting any time getting started on your list. Does The Times deliver to boats anchored in the middle of the ocean?”


	27. Chapter 27

SIX MONTHS LATER

It was a quiet morning. Red was doing the New York Times crossword at the kitchen table as Elizabeth and Agnes sat in front of the fire working on Agnes’ reading assignment.

“Oh…” Liz startled, feeling the baby move inside her. Now almost five months pregnant, she had felt small movements before but nothing like the blatant “kick” the child inside her delivered a moment before.

“Mom?” Agnes inquired concern.

“It’s nothing to worry about Agnes. I just felt the baby move.”

Agnes’ eyes got wider. Elizabeth also suddenly had Red’s attention.

“What does it feel like?”

“It feels…wonderful,” Liz confessed, catching Red’s eye across the room.

Liz caught her breath as the unborn child moved again. She couldn’t help but smile.

“Do you want to feel it?” she asked Agnes.

The child was curious but wasn’t exactly sure what she meant.

Liz gently took Agnes’ hand and laid it on her growing belly. Before long, the child inside her moved again causing Agnes’ eyes to widen in awe.

“Daddy - I felt it! The baby moved!”

Red was entranced by the picture before him. His beloved daughter. His pregnant wife. Their new life moving inside her.

“Red, do you want to feel it?”

_More than anything!_

Red remembered vividly his desire to reach out and lay his hands on her belly when Elizabeth had been carrying Agnes. But, their life had been different then. The Task Force. Tom. The Cabal. All barriers to that experience. No more.

For the past six months, Red felt like he had been living a dream. They had come home from the sailing trip in a very different place from when they had left. Open. Honest. Willing to confront their feelings for one another. And, allow them to grow.

Red hadn’t wasted any time; feeling that too much had been wasted already. He (and Agnes) asked Elizabeth to marry “them” a month later and Liz’s request, despite Red’s hesitation, that they at least not prevent another child had led them to this moment.

Liz, sensing his desire, beckoned him closer. Down on one knee in front of her, he laid both hands on her round belly; waiting patiently for his turn to feel the unborn life.

“Come on. Show Daddy…” Liz beckoned. And before long, the baby moved again.

The joy on Red’s face was enough to last a lifetime for Liz. She smiled widely as she watched the awe on his face.

“I always wanted to…” he stopped himself but looked at Agnes.

Liz’s heart hurt.

“I know…” she said softly, her had gently caressing his face.

Red couldn’t help himself. He rose slowly from his place on bended knee and leaned in gently to kiss her.

“Oh brother…” Agnes sighed with a roll of her eyes, a little tired of the “kissing thing” that seemed to happen “all the time” since they came back from the boat trip.

“Not again!”

 ______________________________________________________________________________________________

FOUR MONTHS LATER

“What if I don’t like him?” Agnes asked, her hand held tightly in her father’s as they walked down the hall of the hospital.

Until that morning, Red hadn’t been in a real hospital in decades. He still found himself uneasy. Wondering if there were eyes he couldn’t see watching them. Intruding on this special moment.

“What do you mean ‘not like him?’”

“I wanted a baby sister!” Agnes protested.

“I don’t think we get to decide,” Red responded as they rounded the corner into Elizabeth’s room to find her asleep. The tiny infant resting peacefully in the small glass bed next to her.

Red stopped at the door.

Agnes let go of her father’s hand and walked over to the crib which was at her eye level.

“He’s very small,” Agnes observed.

“Yes.”

Red sensed her hesitation. Agnes, now 7, had had her parents all to herself until a few hours ago. At 2pm that afternoon, her world had changed dramatically.

Red picked her up with a bit more difficultly than in the past and held her over the glass cribs to get a better look at her new baby brother.

“He’s going to need a lot a help learning things. How to walk and how to talk. He doesn’t know how to do ANYTHING!” Red whispered.

Agnes thought for a moment; not sure she wanted to volunteer to assist the interloper in his interloping.

“Hello, Agnes,” Liz said quietly from the bed.

Agnes smiled and wiggled to be released from her father’s grip; relieved for the reprieve from the current topic of conversation.

“Are you ok?” she asked quietly; clearly concerned.

“Yes. Thank you for asking,” Liz smiled as she began to sit up beckoning for Agnes to join her on the bed.

Agnes climbed up next to her mother.

Red looked down at his newborn son.

_Agnes is right. He is very small._

He couldn’t stop the smile that crossed his face nor the impulse to reach down and scoop up the newborn infant; cradling him in his arms as the child squeaked and stretched.

Red laughed giddily.

From a practical standpoint, Red still didn’t think this second child was a wise decision. They were and would always be who they were. There would always be the specter of danger lurking around them. And, Red was so much older than Liz that she would likely raise these children a great deal on her own. The thought that he may not see as much of their children’s lives as younger parents made him sad. But Elizabeth had missed so much of Agnes’ life, he simply couldn’t deny her the opportunity to experience those first special years of a child’s life as he has with Agnes so he gave in. At this moment, he wouldn’t change a thing.

“Would you like to hold him?” Liz asked.

Agnes thought for a moment.

“I don’t know how.”

“How about if I help?”

Agnes nodded hesitantly in the affirmative.

Liz grabbed a pillow from behind her and propped it under Agnes’ arm to help her manage the weight. Red laid the baby in Agnes’ arms, Liz close by for support.

As Red observed the three of them - his family - he felt a wave of emotion; a kind of “happy” that he had never before experienced. A kind of happy he never expected to experience.

A small tear formed in his eye.

Liz watched the tear fall and reached out to him; summoning him to join them. He moved slowly; kissing her gently as he took his place on the opposite side of Agnes.

“Hi baby,” Agnes cooed as the little boy opened his sleepy eyes to look at his big sister.

“What’s his name?”

Liz looked at Red who nodded in agreement.

“His name is Samuel.”


	28. Chapter 28

FIFTEEN YEARS IN THE FUTURE

“Elizabeth, she can’t go!” Red protested.

“Are you REALLY going to tell her that, despite getting a full ride scholarship to Harvard Law School, that she can’t go?!?!?”

He was proud of her. Very proud of the young woman Agnes had grown into. She was completing her studies in criminal justice (of all things) at the local university and had applied to countless law schools across the country. He had managed to keep her close for college, saying he was “old” and they might not have much more time together, but now she had an invitation to Harvard.

“Elizabeth! The reason we have remained this quiet, happy family is by staying in one location. Everyone here know us as William and Elizabeth Markum. No one questions that. It is a fact to them. As soon as we start showing up in other places, we risk all of this! Hell, how do we even get her there!!?!?”

“We DRIVE like we always do. Agnes knows your “scared of flying!” Liz responded sarcastically as Red rolled his eyes at the excuse they had used for years about why they would never fly anywhere.

“It’s 3,000 miles away!”

“So, it will take a while to get there!”

“And expose us to countless other populations!”

“Red,” Liz said, her voice softer. “It’s been over twenty years.”

“I’m still on the list, Elizabeth.”

Liz nodded. He was right. It was a risk.

In the end, they caved. Agreed to send Agnes to Harvard. Loaded her things and drove from Seattle to Boston to help her move in. Red keeping as low a profile as possible through countless stops and nights in strange cities. Trying not to arouse suspicion in his children about his slightly odd behavior.

While Agnes and Liz hung curtains and shopped for kitchen necessities, a now fifteen-year-old Samuel and Red went to the hardware store to gather some supplies.

“I think this is it,” Samuel said. Red had never been good at “handy man” stuff but Samuel seemed to have a knack for it. “Wait, I think I saw the drill bit we need over there,” he said as he hurried off around the corner leaving Red staring at screws.

“Do we know each other?” Red heard in a familiar voice, causing all the hairs on the back of his neck to stand on end.

_Panic!_

Red turned to find himself face to face with an older, yet remarkably the same, Harold Cooper.

While he wouldn’t have recognized the former Concierge of Crime by his appearance, Harold certainly recognized his voice.

“No. I don’t think we do,” Red said calmly.

“You seem so familiar to me,” Harold pressed.

“I’m not from here. Just moving my daughter to school,” Red offered, as he turned back to searching for a package of screws on the wall. Even if Harold wanted to lock him up and throw away the key, he knew the man wouldn’t hurt Agnes.

Harold smiled at the mention of Agnes. The story was legendary – Raymond Reddington disappearing with Elizabeth Keen’s child. The video and blood samples proving the child was actually his; posing many more questions than answers. Them never being heard from again.

“Where is she going?” Harold pressed again.

Red sighed.

_It’s too late. He knows. Might as well get reacquainted with an old friend before going to jail._

“Harvard Law.”

Harold could help but chuckle at the irony; causing Red to soften his demeanor slightly.

“I teach Criminal Justice at Harvard.”

Red shook his head.

THIS! THIS is why he should never have allowed Agnes to accept the invitation!

Before he could respond, Samuel rounded the corner.

“Dad, I think I found it,” he announced, showing his father the drill bit.

Harold was taken aback.

_DAD!_

He knew about Agnes but this was unexpected!

“Professor, this is my son…Samuel.”

“Nice to meet you, Professor…” the handsome boy with his father’s eyes questioned, extending his hand politely.

“Cooper,” Harold finished.

“Professor Cooper will be one of Agnes’ teachers.”

Samuel nodded his understanding.

“Samuel, why don’t you take this and pay for our supplies and I’ll meet you up front,” Red said to the boy, handing him a $100 bill, before turning back to Harold.

“As I said, we live a long way from here. Perhaps you could keep an eye on my daughter for me and let me know if there is anything she needs?”

“I would be honored.”

Red smiled. He felt a little better leaving Agnes knowing that Harold Cooper was close.

“Her name is Katherine Markum but we call her Agnes.”

Harold smiled.

_Of course, her name wouldn’t be Reddington!_

“Perhaps I could show you a picture so you recognize her.”

Harold nodded as Red opened his wallet and pulled out a picture of their family – Red, Agnes, Samuel, and ELIZABETH.

Harold was shocked as looked at the photo.

_Elizabeth Keen Is ALIVE!!!_

“She looks like her mother,” Harold finally managed.

Red nodded; sensing his shock.

“It’s a long story. And, NOT … what you would expect,” Red offered as if to tell Harold that this was not the two of them intentionally deceiving him and the Task Force.

Harold had trouble wrapping his mind around the concept, yet it appeared that Raymond Reddington and Elizabeth Keen had lived happily ever after for the last 20 years.

“I’m very happy for you,” Harold offered to Red’s surprise. While he despised what Raymond Reddington was and did, he had believed all along that, deep down, Raymond was a good man and was pleased that he had found some version of happiness.

Red nodded.

“Dad! Let’s go!”

Red motioned to Samuel that he was on his way.

“Please Harold…”

Raymond Reddington had never asked Harold Cooper for anything. Until now.

Sure - Harold could turn him in. Destroy the man’s children and Elizabeth. But, in reality, this man was nearing 80 years old.

_What good would it do to send him to prison now?_

“Don’t worry,” Harold replied, softly. “About anything.”

Red sighed with relief.

Harold would not say anything. AND, he would watch over Agnes.

Red nodded a thank you. Tipped his now signature baseball cap. And walked out of the hardware store with his son.


	29. Chapter 29

FOUR YEARS LATER

Red entered the small room. His tuxedo in place with the exception of his tie and his unbuttoned vest to find Elizabeth putting the finishing touches on her makeup.

“I always loved you in red.”

Liz smiled at him in the mirror.

“I know. That’s why I picked it. Despite the fact that Agnes’ favorite color is blue and this really is her day.”

“Could you help me with this?” he asked handing her a white rose boutonniere.

“Of course,” she said as she stood and approached him.

“And, I always loved you in a tuxedo,” she flirted once she reached him. She was rewarded with a tender kiss. Red never taking his eyes of her as she fastened the flower to his coat.

“Are you going to make Agnes tie your tie?”

“Yes.”

“Don’t you think she has more important things to do today than tie your tie?”

“No.”

Liz looked at him with raised eyebrows.

“She has tied my ties for me for 25 years. She can do it again today.”

“You’re incorrigible.”

“Yes.”

“Alright. You look very handsome. Even with an unfinished tie.”

Red looked in the mirror and smiled.

_Not bad given his nearly years and the life he led._

“I’ll save you a seat,” she whispered.

“Ok,” he said before stealing yet another kiss.

“Go…” she directed, sending him away.  “Wish her luck for me.”

“She doesn’t need luck.”

Liz nodded as Red closed the door behind him. He was right.

Red crossed to the opposite side of the church, surprised how many people allowed him to pass without so much as acknowledging his presence. There was a time in his life he couldn’t cross the street without people fleeing for their safely or the possibility him of ending up in prison. Twenty five years after Raymond Reddington vanished, seemingly into thin air, he was finally removed from the FBI’s most wanted list. He was relieved as the aged photos of him were shockingly accurate. And, with Agnes now living on the opposite coast and them doing more traveling to see her, he was grateful for small favors.

Red approached the bride’s room and knocked on the door.

“Come in!” he heard in his daughter’s now 26-year-old voice, making his heart ache ever so slightly.

He opened the door to find Agnes looking stunning in her wedding gown. The sight of her took his breath away. His little girl more of a woman than he cared to admit. He would always prefer to think of her as the precocious six-year-old that wanted to sit on his lap and dance with him in the kitchen.

A small tear formed in Raymond Reddington’s eye.

“Daddy?” Agnes questioned.

He was amazingly fit for a man nearly 80-years-old but, given his age, any change in his rock-solid demeanor caused Agnes concern.

“You simply take my breath away, Agnes.”

She smiled as she twirled best she could given the train on her dress.

“It’s ok?”

“It’s more than ok. You look exquisite,” he replied softly.

“Can I help you with that?” she asked, pointing to the tie in his hand.

“Please.” He nodded.

Agnes moved towards her father and, as she had since she was a small child, began to tie the Windsor knot.

“You’re breaking your promise, you know.”

Agnes looked at him perplexed.

“When you were two, you promised me you would not date until after I was dead. Getting married is taking a bit too far, don’t you think?”

Agnes chuckled. Leave it to her dad to bring up a 20-year-old promise made by a two–year-old.

“He’s good man, Daddy. He makes me happy.”

Red nodded remembering the fateful conversation.

\-----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------  
FLASHBACK

Red closed the door of the study behind them and poured Nicholas a scotch followed by one for himself.

“You’ve been around for a couple years now, Nicholas. Why the sudden request to meet with me?” Red asked, knowing exactly why the boy had shown up on his doorstep without his daughter.

And by “boy,” he meant very successful young New York City attorney bound to be the youngest person ever to make partner at his firm.

“Thank you for taking the time to see me, Mr. Markum. I think you know why I’m here. Agnes and I have been together for nearly four years now. I’m here to ask your permission to marry your daughter.”

A bit of anger found its way to the surface first. But Liz had warned him.

_“Be nice! He’s a good man and she loves him!”_

Red softened.

“Nicholas, you should NOT marry my daughter unless you are prepared to put her happiness over your own 100% of the time. You should NOT marry my daughter unless you are willing to be with the same woman every day AND every night for rest of your life. You should NOT marry my daughter…”

In an unexpected move, the young attorney interrupted him.

“…unless I’m prepared to support her in her career aspirations. I should not marry your daughter unless I am willing to be a good father to her children. I should not marry your daughter unless I’m truly enamored by her stubbornness and the fiery passion that lives inside her…”

Red was taken aback.

And, if he were honest with himself, impressed by this young man. After all, NO ONE interrupted Raymond Reddington.

The young man went on and on. Methodically describing all the things about Agnes that he understood and, more importantly, loved.

“And, I should not marry your daughter unless I cannot live without her.”

A lump formed in Red’s throat.

“I can’t, sir. I can’t live without her. That’s why I’m here to ask your permission to marry Agnes.”

END FLASHBACK  
\------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

“There. It’s perfect.” Agnes said stepping back admiring her handy work.

“I hope you didn’t tie Nicholas’ tie.  It would be bad luck.”

Agnes laughed and Red’s heart hurt.

“I didn’t. And, it will be a mess, and drive me crazy, and after the ceremony, I will re-tie it for him and we’ll live happily ever after.”

Red smiled. It was all he could do through the lump in his throat.

Red shook his head.

“You saved me, Agnes,” he began softly.

Agnes was surprised at her father’s statement. The look on her face imploring him to go on.

“Had you not been born, Agnes,…I…”

“Daddy?”

“…I would have been gone long ago. I would have continued on the dark path that I followed for too long. Your birth and the opportunity to be your father changed the course of my life."

Agnes wrapped her arms around her aging father and pulled him close.

"You gave me more joy, more happiness, that I ever expected…or deserved," Red continued. 

“I love you, Daddy.”

Red couldn’t respond. Simply pulled her closer; held her tighter.

There was a quick knock before the door flew open to reveal a handsome young man nearly 20-years-old.

“They are ready to start. Are you guys coming?”

“We’re almost ready, Sam.” Agnes said sincerely, her arms still around her father.

“Dad, have you seen my bridesmaid! WOW!” Sam Markum said, making a gesture the older man could only assume was inappropriate.

“Samuel, if you are anything but respectful to that young woman you will answer to me. Is that understood,” Red replied, sternly.

Samuel rolled his eyes as his seemingly excessively moral father got on his proverbial soapbox.

“Yes, Dad,” he replied, sarcastically, as he closed the door behind him.

Red sighed.

“Agnes when you have one perfect child and Nicholas insists on having a second, you say “NO.” Emphatically. Definitively. Without room for negotiation. Say “NO.”

Agnes giggled. She knew her younger brother had been more than her father bargained for but, all in the all, Samuel was a good kid.

“I have been through unimaginable things, Agnes, but that boy will be the death of me!”

“Are you ready, Dad?”

Red shook his head “no.”

“I don’t think I will ever be ready to give you away, Agnes,” Red said softly, offering his arm to his daughter.

Liz watched from the front row as the bridesmaids and groomsmen processed down the aisle, particularly proud of Samuel (who she was certain looked like a young Red even though she didn’t know him then).

Her heart swelled with pride as Red walked their daughter down the aisle. He caught her eye and held her gaze the entire way; gathering the strength to make it through the moment from her.

When they reach the end of the aisle and the man to whom he was handing the care of his daughter, he turned to Agnes.

“Are you sure?” he whispered, fully prepared to walk his daughter back down the aisle if she said “no.” Part of him wishing for just that.

Agnes nodded and hugged him.

“I’m sure, Daddy,” she whispered.

His daughter’s hand held firmly in his left hand, Red reached out to the shake the young groom’s hand. He held it for a long while. Studying the man before speaking.

“Don’t disappoint her, Nicholas,” Red said softly, the hard face of Raymond Reddington appearing for the first time in nearly three decades.

Nicholas’ gaze never strayed from that of his future father-in-law.

“I won’t, sir. You have my word.”

Red nodded. Again, impressed with the strength of this gentleman’s character.

He placed Agnes’ hand in Nicholas’; held them in his own for a moment; and moved to take his place next to Elizabeth.

Liz immediately took his hand.

“I’m proud of you,” Liz whispered.

Red simply held her hand tightly with tears in his eyes.


	30. Chapter 30

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> We have finally reached the end of this little tale. Thanks to all who stuck with me. Please share your thoughts. I'm considering some new ideas. Your feedback will help me craft the next fic!

THREE YEARS LATER

Red walked into the house, his arms full of groceries.

“Lizzie…are you going to help me with these?” he shouted, a little irritated, to the seemingly empty house.

He rounded the corner to the kitchen to find Elizabeth hanging up the phone; an ecstatic look on her face.

“What?” Red questioned, suddenly concerned.

Liz giggled.

“It’s a boy!” she exclaimed.

Red dropped the bag on the counter with a bang and scooped Elizabeth into his arms.

“My god!” he whispered, almost to himself.

“But…he’s early! We were supposed to be there!” he went on, disappointment clearly audible in his voice.

Liz was disappointed, too. But babies waited for no one - certainly not the grandson of Raymond Reddington!

“What’s his name?” Red questioned, his arms still firmly wrapped around his wife.

Liz remembered what Agnes said.

“Agnes wants to tell you,” Liz said softly, regrettably pulling away from his embrace.

Red immediately picked up his phone to call his daughter but Liz put her hand over his before he could dial.

“In person.”

Red looked at her. Perplexed.

_William – that’s his name. Agnes was naming her son after her father and she wanted to tell him in person._

Red smiled at the sentiment.

“You get on a plane…” Red said, disheartened that his inability to set foot in a commercial airport would cause Elizabeth to miss the first few days of their first grandchild’s life.

“…I’ll meet you there.”

Liz thought for a moment. It was tempting. But they hadn’t been apart a single day since she appeared in the park when Agnes was six years old. She wasn’t about to change that now.

“No,” she whispered as she gently kissed him. “We’ll go together. Like we always do.”  
_____________________________________________________________________________________

Three days later, after an exhausting 3,000-mile drive, Elizabeth and Red pulled up to their daughter and son-in-law’s lavish apartment in New York City.

“Congratulations, Nicholas,” Liz practically shouted as she threw her arms around the new father.

“Where are they!?!??” she continued, already on the move.

“In the nursey. Upstairs. First door on the left.”

Before he could finish, Liz was on her way up the stairs.

“Guess now that there is a grandchild, it doesn’t matter that I’m here,” said the handsome now 23-year old Samuel sporting a full-dress Navy uniform as he emerged from the living room.

Red smiled.

He was proud of his son. The boy had been challenging as a teenager but had just finished the Naval academy and was headed for officer training school. He had followed in his father’s footsteps. Sort of. Red only hoped his son would ultimately take a different path than his own.

“Hello Samuel,” Red said proudly, embracing his only son.

“You gotta see him. He’s pretty amazing,” Samuel continued, raving about his new nephew, much to Red’s surprise.

Red never expected the child he had to bail out of jail no less than a half dozen times and warn countless times about his unacceptable treatment of women would be on his way to becoming a naval officer AND, based on this comment, a future father.

Red smiled and patted the man’s cheek.

“That’s my boy!” he proclaimed proudly.

“Now. Nicholas…” Red questioned, turning towards his son-in-law.

“…wherever would I find my grandson?”

Nicholas escorted his father-in-law to the nursey where they found Agnes standing near the changing table folding the infant’s newly washed clothes while Elizabeth sat in the chair holding a tiny little boy struggling to stay awake.

Red stood in the doorway for a moment. A wave of gratitude consuming him.

Elizabeth. Agnes. His grandson.

_You don’t deserve this!_

“Hi Daddy!” Agnes said as she approached him, immediately wrapping her arms around his neck as she had done as a child.

“Hello, sweetheart,” Red whispered, holding her tightly.

“Are you alright?” he questioned, protectively, as he held her at arm’s length to get a better look at her.

“Yes. I’m wonderful.”

Red smiled; taking in the full picture of his daughter. A successful criminal trial attorney, she had already made a name for herself as someone not to be taken lightly when it came to trying the tough cases. In fact, she had won several cases that the news media had deemed “career suicide;” putting away some of the city’s most wanted criminals.

While their methods were dramatically different, in many ways, she was her father’s daughter.

_And now, she’s a mother._

How he longed for the day when she would fall asleep in his arms in front of the TV; tie his tie before sitting on his lap at the symphony; or join him the kitchen to cook an elaborate meal.

“Daddy?” Agnes questioned at his silence.

Red nodded and turned towards Elizabeth and the baby. He still loved seeing her with a baby in her arms.

“He’s unbelieveable, Red,” Liz beamed as he approached her, kissing her on the cheek as he kneeled, with considerably more effort than in the past, beside the chair to get a better look at his first grandchild.

_He looks like Agnes._

“So…you wanted to tell me in person what this young man’s name is. Perhaps I could guess?” Red asked enthusiastically.

Liz smiled at Agnes, stood up, and handed the baby to Red.

“Here you go…Grandpa,” she said with a grim as she kissed Red and Agnes and left the room.

_Grandpa! That’s going to take a little getting use to!_

Red thought to himself suddenly feeling very old.

“So, if I had to guess, I would guess that his name is William. Just like grandpa!” he said proudly to the infant in his arms.

“Actually…” he continued, turning to Agnes, jovially.

“…can we call him ‘Billy?’ I think he looks like a ‘Billy!”

Agnes paused.

“What?” Red questioned; sensing her hesitation.

She took a deep breath. Her gaze never straying from his.

“His name is Raymond…”

Red stopped dead and glared at Agnes.

“…after my father.”

Agnes watched the color drain from her father’s face and his legs begin to buckle under him. She moved quickly to his side to prevent a fall - for both his and baby Raymond’s sake - directing him to the chair her mother had occupied moments before without taking the infant from his arms.

“No…Agnes…” Red said, unable to look at her or his grandson now asleep in his arms. His eyes closed tightly as his head shook from side to side.

“No!” he insisted.

“I know, Dad…” Agnes said, tilting his eyes to meet hers.

“…I know who you are.”

Red didn’t understand.

_If she knows, why is she not angry? Why is she not running away?_

S _he is a top notch criminal trial attorney at the ripe age of 29. Why is she not furious to learn that her father held the No. 4 slot on the Most Wanted List for literally decades?!_

_And, not only is she not angry, she named her son after you!?!?_ _Not after William Markum - the benevolent father who raised her - but rather after Raymond Reddington - the man you tried so hard to divorce yourself from._

Red panicked.

“Who else knows? Nicholas? Samuel?”

Agnes shook her head reassuringly.

“No one. Only me.”

Red was relieved at that small bit of positive news in this otherwise disastrous conversation.

“How? When?” was all Red could manage.

“Three years ago. In Harold Cooper’s class.”

__________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________

FLASHBACK

THREE YEARS EARLIER

Agnes sat in Professor Harold Cooper’s Criminal Justice class bored nearly to tears as each of her classmates got up and presented their case against some of the most notorious (real and imaginary) criminals of all time. The first was the case against Jeffery Dahmer, the cannibal from Wisconsin and it only went downhill from there. The perpetrators of the Kennedy assassination, the kidnapping of the Lindberg baby, and the Oklahoma City bombing all having their “day in court” as the class weighed in as the jury; judging less the criminal and more the future attorney.

But it was the trial of Tom Connolly, former US Attorney General for his participation in a shadow government known as the Cabal, that changed her life forever.

As her colleague, an awkward young man who would likely believe any conspiracy theory presented to him, made his case with slide after slide of evidence ad nauseam, Agnes yawned in the back of the jury box, reviewed the email on her phone, and texted Nicholas (whom, it seemed, she couldn’t get enough of these days.)

It was when the fledgling attorney got to the part where Connolly was shot by the daughter of a former KGB agent who was assisted in her escape by one the most infamous criminals of all time - Raymond Reddington – that Agnes gasped loudly, her hand covering her mouth. Images of younger versions of her parents flashing on the screen.

The presenter glared at the source of the intrusion into his carefully prepared remarks.

Agnes waved an apology and sat back in her chair in disbelief.

Harold had assumed that Agnes did not know the true identity of her parents. Today’s events confirmed just that. He often wondered how she managed to get this far in the study of Criminal Justice without seeing the FBI’s Most Wanted List which still held a place for her father and knew it would only be a matter of time.

The jury returned a “not guilty” vote on Connolly and the floor was opened to questions.

“Professor Cooper, didn’t you lead the task force that worked with Reddington?” asked a young woman in the back row.

Agnes was astounded. Not only had she just learned that her parents had a far darker history than she ever imagined but her professor WAS PART OF IT!

“Yes – I did.”

“What can you tell us about Reddington? Is it true that he has never been brought to justice?”

Harold watched the color drain from Agnes’ face.

“Unfortunately, Mark, my work with the task force is classified. I’m not allowed to share it with you.” Harold deflected, relieved as the bell rang signaling the end of class.

The classroom cleared leaving Harold Cooper alone with Agnes who sat with her head in her hands in the back of the room. Harold approached her slowly and lowered himself into the chair next to him. Agnes didn’t speak.

“Are you alright?”

Agnes shook her head.

_No! She was most certainly NOT alright!_

“Do you know who I am?”

“Yes.” Harold replied simply.

Agnes sighed deeply.

“Agnes, I can’t even begin to imagine what you are feeling right now. But I can tell you this - your parents are good people. Don’t rush to judgement. Talk to them.”

Agnes suddenly looked up from her hands and deeply into her Professor’s eyes. Anger visible on her face.

She had just learned that the woman she knew as her step-mother had killed the attorney general of the United States and that her father was on the FBI’s Most Wanted list!

_“They are good people!” How could he say that!_

“Listen…when I first met your father I wanted nothing to do with him. He appeared on our doorstop. Offered information. Offered to work with us for no apparent reason. I was incredibly skeptical.”

Agnes waited impatiently for him to go on.

“But after some years with him, I understood why he did what he did. And, I found myself willing to put my own life in danger to protect his.”

Agnes starred at Harold in disbelief.

“He’s afraid of flying,” she said, beginning to connect the many dots that made up her life.

“What?”

“We never took a plane. We never we went anywhere we couldn’t drive. Even when they moved me here. Any time they visit. They always drive. They always said it was because he was afraid to fly.”

Harold laughed out loud remembering the countless conversations they had while Red was on his private jet. Raymond Reddington was most certainly NOT afraid to fly.

“He couldn’t risk going through airport security,” Harold acknowledged.

Agnes nodded.

“Agnes, everything your father did, everything that put him on that List, was done to protect your mother.”

“I don’t understand?” Agnes whispered.

“He’s a good man, Agnes.”

“When was the last time you talked to him?”

“Three years ago. When he moved you to Harvard. I ran into him and your brother in the hardware store.”

Agnes was again stunned.

“You could have turned him in,” she acknowledged.

“Yes.”

“Why didn’t you?”

“Because he asked me to look after you.”

Yet another surprise.

“He did?”

Harold nodded and went on.

“And, because I have too much respect for him. Trust me when I tell you, Agnes, that your father doesn’t deserve to be on The List. Talk to them. Start with your mother.”

“She’s my step-mother.”

Harold was confused. The resemblance between the two was far too great for Agnes not to be Elizabeth’s biological daughter. 

“Start with Elizabeth. It’s important.”

END FLASHBACK  
\------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Red was furious at the mention of Harold Cooper.

“HAROLD TOLD YOU!” he shouted as he stood abruptly from the chair causing the baby to startle and begin to fuss.

Agnes didn’t rush to help. Her father was more than capable of comforting an infant and she knew the calming effect the child would have him. Her father holding baby Raymond while telling him the story was all part of her master plan.

“Agnes…please don’t name your son after THAT man,” Red begged, quietly.

He had tried so hard to put Raymond Reddington behind him - to fully transform into William Markum -that he couldn’t fathom going back. In fact, he often wondered, if the situation demanded his return to the violence of his past, would be able to hold a gun again. To pull the trigger again. To end a life again.  
Now, nearly 30 years later, he truly didn’t know the answer to the question. But he suspected the answer would be ‘no.’

“Professor Cooper didn’t tell me, Dad. One of my classmates presented the mock trial of Tom Connolly in our class. There were pictures. There were pictures of mom…and you.”

Red sighed; still swaying to calm the infant that had curled into his chest and was returning to slumber.

“I don’t know what I would have done without him. He told me how much respect he had for you. How everything you did was to protect mom. That, by the end of your time together, he found himself risking his life to help you. He told me not to judge too quickly.”

Red had developed tremendous respect for Harold Cooper. It was a pleasant surprise to learn that sentiment was returned.

“He didn’t tell me much. But, he did implore me to talk to mom.”

“Your mother knows?” Red said, again in disbelief.

Agnes nodded and Red turned towards the window feeling somehow betrayed.

Elizabeth had not told him that Agnes knew. Or WHAT she knew. Despite holding his newborn grandson in his arms, he suddenly felt alone.

“What did she tell you?” he asked quietly, still unable to look at her.

Agnes approached her father; laying her hand gently on his shoulder.

“Everything.”

Red listened. Unable to look at her. The memories of the each of awful things he had done flooding back to him one by one at light speed.

“That’s why I named my son after my father. My REAL father…”

Red turned towards the warmth of her hand. Pain in his eyes.

“…because I admire his integrity. His ability to love deeply. His willingness to go to great lengths to protect those who deserve to be protected and…those he loves. His wisdom. His kindness. I could go on…”

Red listened intently. All the while shaking his head “no.”

“She told me that her mother was a notorious Russian KGB agent.”

_Silence._

“She told me that she was the little girl you saved from the fire. The one that caused the burns on your back.

Red grimaced.

“She told me that your wife and daughter had been brutally murdered; likely because of your involvement with her and her mother.”

Pain was visible on Red’s face as he glanced once again down at his grandson.

Agnes didn’t want to hurt him. That was not the purpose of this exercise. The purpose was far different.

She went on.

“She told me that you built a criminal empire to protect her. She said turned yourself into the FBI to be closer to her as the danger intensified.”

Red sighed and nodded.

_Yes – he had done all those things._

“She told me that she shot the attorney general. That you helped her escape. And that you worked tirelessly to make sure she was exonerated of that crime.”

Red sighed as Agnes recounted his life story in more detail than he ever wanted her to know.

“She told me that she acted on the intense feelings she had for you, and that she sensed you had for her, which is why I’m here.”

Red chuckled remembering that night on the ship over 30 years before. Yes – that was why Agnes and now…Raymond…existed.

“She told me she was afraid. Afraid of her feelings for you. She told me she ran from you which is why we were apart for six years.”

Agnes began to cry.

“She told me she was my real mother…”

Red moved forward to wrap his arm around her and pull her close. Her son still asleep in his arms.

“I always wanted her to be my mom,” Agnes declared through the tears, her tears muffled by her father’s shirt.

“I know,” Red whispered and held her as her tears flowed.

“We wanted to tell you Agnes,” Red whispered.

“There just never seemed to be a way. A seven-year-old wouldn’t understand. A 16-year-old would ask too many questions. I’m so sorry…” Red choked.

He never dreamed the not knowing would have this type of outcome. Now, seeing the effects of withholding that information from her all these years, made him deeply sad.

Agnes pulled away and went on.

“Mom said that it was all her fault. That when she faked her death that you gave up everything to protect me. Just like you had to protect her.”

_Silence._

“She told me that she went door to door looking for us.”

“She told me that she learned years later that you had actually built two empires – one to protect her and one to make her happy.”

A lump formed in Red’s throat.

“And that it was the second one that has allowed you…and me…and her… to live freely for the last 30 years.”

Elizabeth had told her everything.

Agnes moved towards her father and her son; taking her place directly in front of him. Imploring him to look at her.

“Is it true?”

_Silence._

“Daddy?” Agnes pressed.

Red shrugged, nearly imperceptibly nodding his affirmative response through the lump in his throat. Unable to speak. Unable to look at her.

“And, that’s why I named my son after you.”

Red was overcome with emotion. A single tear sliding the length of his face landing gently on his namesake’s cheek.

Liz appeared silently in the doorway. While she had wanted to give them their privacy, she also wasn’t sure how Red would react to the news so she had stayed close. After twenty-five years of marriage, she knew that his silence was, in reality, a deafening cry for help.

“Sounds like one hell of a love story,” she whispered from the doorway.

A small smile crossed Red’s face as his gaze met hers.

Him and Elizabeth. Together for 25 years. Parents of two successful, accomplished, NORMAL children. Now grandparents.

Red laughed out loud. A penetrating sense of relief washing over him.

“Yes, I suppose it is a love story.”’

 Liz kissed Agnes before wrapping her arms around Red from behind, her chin resting on his shoulder gazing down at their grandson.

“So…his name is Raymond. And, he will wear it proudly.” Liz proclaimed softly.

With Elizabeth’s comforting arms around him, Red looked down at his infant grandson still sound asleep in his protective arms with a small, unbelieving, smile.

“Raymond…that’s a good name…”

THE END


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